


Fox Wish

by liketolaugh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Ciel Has a Friend, F/M, M/M, Pre-Hogwarts, Wizard!Ciel, Young!Albus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2016-08-02
Packaged: 2017-12-08 06:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 30,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ciel Phantomhive is a wizard. He's known this all his life; after all, his mother and father had both been purebloods, dividing their attention between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds. Now, Ciel is eleven, and it's time for him to attend Hogwarts, accompanied by a boy his age called Albus Dumbledore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

“Young Master, it is time to wake up.”

Ciel let out a quiet groan, sitting up slowly. He rubbed his eye tiredly, his mouth opening in a yawn. As he slowly woke up, he could make out the smell of Earl Grey on the air. Ciel winced as the curtains were opened, streaming light directly on his face.

It had been over a year and a half since that fateful day. He had been ten years old when his parents had died in a fire; he had spent the next month being held captive by a depraved cult. By the end, he had been broken and lifeless, but driven to rage by their actions when they made him a human sacrifice, trying to summon a demon to do their bidding.

In the end, they summoned their demon. But they hadn’t been the ones to make a deal with it; he had. Now, that same demon would help Ciel to get his revenge. And then he would consume Ciel’s soul.

Ciel, now eleven years old, opened his eyes – the left one wide and blue, the right one etched with a violet pentagram – and looked up at that same demon.

He was, as usual, impeccably dressed, right down to his black woolen tailcoat. Ciel nodded to him and he held out a gently steaming cup, who took it.

“Earl Grey,” he noted, taking a sip.

“Yes,” the demon butler affirmed, beginning to dress Ciel in the day’s outfit. “Today’s breakfast is a simple one of-”

He was interrupted by a piercing screech, coming from the window, followed by a tapping sound. He looked up with a frown.

In the window, a Greater Sooty owl, dignified but very clearly annoyed, tapped on the window again, looking impatient.

Ciel barely glanced at it before he gave his butler an impatient look. “Sebastian, don’t just stare at it. Let it in.”

Sebastian was silent for a moment as he put the finishing touches on Ciel’s outfit for the day. He tied Ciel’s eye patch over the violet eye – the mark of their contract – with a flourish before he spoke again. “Are you certain, Young Master? I could-”

Ciel gave him a scathing look, silencing him. “Sebastian.”

Sebastian tilted his head toward Ciel. “Yes, my lord,” he sighed. His mouth thinned in irritation and disapproval, but without further prompting, he strode to the window, opening it.

The owl immediately swooped toward Ciel, but Sebastian spotted a letter tied to its leg and his hand darted out, catching it by the leg easily. He swiftly untied the envelope and the owl fluttered to land on the windowsill, looking at them expectantly.

Sebastian examined the envelope closely. The first thing he noted was the seal; it was an H, surrounded by the forms of a lion, a serpent, a badger, and a raven. The emerald ink on the envelope’s face was the next thing he noticed; the address was strangely specific, something that Sebastian himself might have written in one of his cheekier moments.

“Sebastian, the letter,” Ciel reminded Sebastian impatiently, breaking the demon out of his thoughts. Without a word, Sebastian handed the envelope to Ciel, who opened it and pulled the letter out, unfolding it and scanning it.

A letter by owl. For some reason, Sebastian found this method of communication familiar, but for the life of him, he couldn’t recall from where. It must have been a long time; he was very old, after all. The emerald ink and the seal were both also somewhat familiar.

Then, for a reason he couldn’t fathom, his mind was drawn to the various odd incidents over the past year and a half. There had been one time in particular that he recalled. There had been a business partner, he remembered, as per usual for his Young Master. He had been invited to the mansion to work out a particularly important business deal, one expected to shift Funtom Corporation into international prominence, but something had gone wrong. Finny, the gardener, who didn’t know his own strength, had accidentally pushed a particularly large tree too hard, causing it to come crashing down in front of the house mere minutes before the man was due to arrive. Sebastian, busy making preparations, hadn’t noticed before it was too late to fix in time, when Ciel had come out and noticed the tree.

Ciel had been furious, ranting angrily at Finny and reducing the older boy to tears before, abruptly, the tree vanished. Ciel had taken a deep breath and snapped at Finny one last time before returning to his study. None of them had had any idea what to make of it, not even Sebastian himself.

Another memorable moment had taken place during an investigation. With Sebastian across the room and a knife being flung toward Ciel’s heart, Ciel’s eyes had been wide with fright. The aim had been perfect, and Sebastian was still halfway across the room when the knife – just short of Ciel’s flesh – had stopped in midair, turned, and launched itself toward its owner, who was too shocked to do anything about it. The knife had impaled him and Sebastian brought Ciel away, too alarmed and relieved to think very hard about how the knife had done that.

But why was Sebastian’s mind drawing connections between the events? The owl, the tree, the knife – all three, without further information, seemed completely unrelated to him, and yet, somehow, he was convinced that something connected them. But he couldn’t remember what.

Sebastian was brought out of his thoughts by a rustle of paper as Ciel folded the letter, returning to its envelope.

“I expect that Elizabeth will visit soon, so be prepared,” was all he said, before he was out of the room, followed by a quietly out-of-the-loop Sebastian.

He had still received no answers by the time Ciel had finished with breakfast. The sound of the front door opening was the only warning they got before a pink blur flashed across the room and attached itself to Ciel.

“Ciel!” Elizabeth squealed. “Ciel, I got my Beauxbatons letter today, isn’t it wonderful?”

Like the Phantomhives, the Midfords were an old pureblood family. It, too, divided its attentions between the Muggle and Wizarding worlds, finding both equally as interesting, each with its own quirks and its own set of crimes and opportunities. Unlike the Phantomhives, who traditionally attended the closer school of Hogwarts, the Midfords preferred the French Beauxbatons. The youngest of them, Elizabeth, was Ciel’s fiancé, and would be going there this year.

He would have responded, but she was strangling him, as usual. It was a moment or two before she realized this and let go, looking at him expectantly.

“I received my own letter today as well,” he informed her, once he had caught his breath. “Perhaps we could visit Diagon Alley later today?”

Her response was another enthusiastic hug, which left Ciel slightly dazed.

“Young Master, I am afraid that I find myself uncertain as to the location of this ‘Diagon Alley’,” Sebastian interjected uncomfortably. It wasn’t often that he found himself in unfamiliar territory; in fact, it very nearly never happened.

Ciel smirked at him, clearly amused. “Ah, so I have at last found an area in which you are deficient?”

“Don’t worry, Sebastian, Ciel and I know where it is,” Elizabeth assured him with a bright smile. “You wouldn’t have been able to find it by yourself.”

Sebastian was not entirely convinced of this, but as Elizabeth engaged Ciel in conversation, he was forced to let the matter lie. The choice was further taken out of his hands as he heard an explosion and sighed. Bard must have brought out the flamethrower again and blown up the kitchen. How many times did he have to tell that man that a flamethrower was not a legitimate cooking utensil?

Ciel paused in his conversation to issue one last order before Sebastian left. “Prepare the carriage for a journey to London; have it ready before lunch is over.”

Sebastian bowed. “Yes, my lord.”

As Sebastian left to babysit… ahem, _help_ the servants (as Finny, the gardener, and Mey-rin, the maid, were no better), Ciel and Lizzy continued talking with each other. Wanting to avoid all talk of magic, they instead discussed the normal this-and-that of most nobles’ speech. Of course, as they both loathed such pointless ramblings, such topics were quickly given up on in favor of more personal subjects, and Ciel found himself engaging more than usual. Anything from amusing stories to ideas to day-to-day life was open, unintentionally prolonging the meal long past its intended time.

By the time Ciel had realized how much time had passed, Sebastian had long since returned and was giving him an amused smirk, chuckling.

“The Young Master is unusually excitable today,” he commented lightly. “Might I inquire as to what has you so happy?”

Elizabeth outright laughed at the man. “Ciel finally got his Hogwarts letter!” she explained, smiling. Sadly, despite the name ringing familiarly in Sebastian’s mind, he couldn’t quite recall anything about it. “He had to wait an entire extra year, because his birthday is so late. Of course he’s excited; who wouldn’t be?”

“Would the Hogwarts letter be the one that was tied to the owl this morning?” Sebastian prodded.

“Of course, silly!” smiled Elizabeth.

“You’ve prepared the carriage?” Ciel prompted, shoving down his embarrassment.

“Naturally,” Sebastian smiled. “The time frame provided was more than sufficient, after all.” His red-brown eyes glittered with mirth as Ciel scowled at him.

By the time the carriage pulled up to the bookstore Lizzy had specified and Ciel had confirmed, Lizzy was almost bouncing with impatience and Ciel was looking annoyed… well, more annoyed than usual. Sebastian helped both of them out of the carriage and Ciel took the front, leading the small group into a pub that Sebastian was quite certain had not been there a moment ago.

Ciel walked straight up to a middle-aged man behind the bar. The man seemed to recognize him, giving the boy a smile as soon as their gazes met. “Little Ciel Phantomhive! Why, I haven’t seen you in over a year.” His smile fell into a frown. “I must offer my condolences for what happened to your parents, my boy. I’m sure you had a very hard time of it, and most likely still do.”

Ciel sighed and his gaze landed unwaveringly on the man, though they were dark with regret. “Nothing to be done about it now, Tom. And I have been… busy.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Oh, yes, you’re the head of your family now, aren’t you? And everything that entails.” He looked over Ciel’s shoulder to Lizzy and smiled. “And Miss Lizzy Midford! It’s very nice to see you as well.”

Lizzy smiled at him. “It’s nice to see you too, Tom,” she replied cordially.

Ciel took control of the conversation and reclaimed Tom’s attention. “As we have no one who can open the barrier with us, Tom, it would be appreciated if you let us through.”

Tom nodded, smiling. “Of course, of course!”

He came out from behind the bar and led the group through a door in the back, which opened into a small, almost empty courtyard. Then he withdrew a stick from the depths of his jacket and tapped the wall once.

Immediately, the bricks began to fold away, slowly but steadily revealing behind them a bustling beehive of activity, loud, crowded, and full of strange colors and sounds.

“There you go,” smiled Tom, returning inside. “Have a good day, mind! I don’t want to see any of you all sulky when you return!”

“Never, Tom!” Elizabeth assured him.

“Don’t stare, Sebastian, it is unbecoming of a Phantomhive servant,” Ciel chided.


	2. The Alley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They enter Diagon Alley and Ciel meets Albus and receives an owl.

"The Phantomhives and the Midfords are old pureblood families in the Wizarding World," Ciel explained matter-of-factly, heading purposefully toward a tall, white marble building, which towered over every little shop in the street, demanding to be noticed. "They hold a similar status here to the one held in the mundane world. While most pureblood families prefer to withdraw completely into the Wizarding World and all it entails, we, and a few select other families such as the Prewitts and the Potters, have found the mundane world equally rewarding."

"Purebloods are people with ancestors who were all magical," Elizabeth supplied helpfully. "The Wizarding World withdrew entirely from the mundane, or Muggle, one a long time ago, so naturally everything is entirely different. The Muggle world is fast catching up to the Wizarding one, though – they really are wonderfully inventive, and wizards are far too set in their ways to make any real progress at all, it's dreadful."

Sebastian frowned and murmured to himself thoughtfully. "Yes, now that the connection is drawn, I do recall having made some dealings with this world. It was quite a long time ago, however – I will need to do much research to catch up."

"Oh, really?" Elizabeth said in surprise. "How odd. You really do seem to have done everything, Sebastian!" She smiled at him. "You're amazing, Sebastian."

Sebastian chuckled. "Not at all. I am simply one hell of a butler."

The demon butler made certain not to stare at any one place for long, but it was difficult as his gaze darted from shop to shop. There was the Apothecary, full of strange and often disgusting-looking items, from live insects, to dried and fresh plants, to disembodied animal parts. There was also what appeared to be a stock of unicorn horns.

Another store which caught his attention was a shop called Bizarre Beasts, stocked with animals that ranged from mundane to exotic. He spotted small house cats (which his gaze lingered on wistfully), grey, white, and black rats, owls of all sorts, and several colorful snakes before he tore his gaze away at his master's impatient snap.

There were many others – Madam Kashmere's, Flourish and Blotts, Cortinam Cauldrons, Ollivanders, and many more, a few of which – like Ollivanders – which he did recognize, but many which he did not.

He was broken out of his musings by Ciel's voice. "Sebastian."

He looked up and his red eyes sparked with recognition. "Ah, Gringotts. I take it that this is still the Wizarding World's only bank?"

"Indeed," confirmed Ciel.

Elizabeth smiled and the three of them looked up at the towering building. Sebastian smirked a little as his gaze travelled over the familiar engraving. " _Enter, stranger, but take heed, of what awaits the sin of greed. For those who seek, but do not earn, must pay most dearly in their turn."_ His gaze flickered to Ciel, who caught it and scowled at him.

Elizabeth, too impatient to wait for them to argue, stole the lead from Ciel, bounding forward and into the majestic bank.

More than one goblin head turned as Ciel and Sebastian followed after the energetic girl, who went right up to a desk and smiled at the goblin behind it. She seemed oblivious to the disapproval vibrating off of every goblin in sight, and the scandalized looks of many of the more stuffy purebloods present.

"Hello, sir!" she greeted. "I'd like to take something out of my vault."

While goblins were not known for being easily intimidated, this one looked like he would do anything for an escape from the situation. "Name?"

"Elizabeth Midford," she replied, not at all fazed by his less-than-encouraging reply. Ciel drew level with her, looking resigned.

"Key," he requested.

She reached into a pocket on the inside of her jacket and pulled out a small, golden key, which she handed over to the goblin. The goblin took it and examined it closely, holding it at every angle possible and then some, seemingly trying very hard to find any sort of flaw.

"It seems to be in order," he grunted. He seemed somewhat put out by this.

"I would like to go with her and also intend to remove something from my safe," added in Ciel. The goblin seemed relieved to be able to leave Lizzy alone, instead directing an unnecessary amount of attention at him. He reached into his own jacket pocket. "Ciel Phantomhive," he stated as he slid the tiny key across the counter. "Sebastian will be accompanying us."

The goblin spent a much shorter amount of time inspecting his key, returning it to him after only a minute or so spent examining it. "It seems genuine," he conceded. "Sawtooth!"

Another goblin, a bit taller than average but still, of course, quite short, came up to the counter. He was all business, only faltering for a moment when Elizabeth gave him a wide smile.

"Follow me," he requested sharply. He turned on his heel and trotted toward one of the doors, which opened into a narrow stone passage, lit only by torchlight. Sebastian helped first Elizabeth and then Ciel climb into the cart and then climbed in himself.

What followed resembled nothing so much as an extremely fast carriage following a maze-like pattern.

Pity. He had hoped that that, at least, would have changed.

Then again… He smirked as he helped both Ciel and Elizabeth back out of the carriage. Both looked slightly ill. The twists and turns, taken at such a high speed, clearly hadn't agreed with them, and he didn't bother to stifle his chuckle as Ciel shook his head like a wet dog, trying to dispel the dizziness.

"Vault 214. Key, please," grunted Sawtooth. Elizabeth recalled that that was the Midford vault, so she handed him the key and he unlocked the door.

She entered without hesitation and wandered among the piles of gold, with some silver and bronze scattered around. Along with them, there were also all sorts of artifacts – jewel-encrusted goblets, swords for show and for use, suits of armor were just a few of the things Sebastian recognized. But there were other things that seemed far too mundane to be kept in a vault. This made Sebastian smirk as he recalled another thing – wizards always seemed to enchant the strangest things. A peculiar habit that didn't seem to have diminished over the centuries.

The thing Elizabeth found and picked up was a bag. Nothing special – simply a little brown drawstring bag, small enough to fit in a pocket.

"This should still be enchanted," she commented with a smile. She looked over at the goblin. "Right, Sawtooth?"

He looked at it closely for a moment. "Yes. It will still contain the desired amount of money when turned over," he affirmed.

She beamed and tucked it into her pocket. "Now let's go get yours, Ciel!"

He nodded and they returned to the cart. Another dizzying trip saw them outside vault 139.

"Key, please," Sawtooth repeated. Ciel gave him the key and the vault was unlocked.

The Phantomhive vault, unlike the Midford one, was almost obsessively organized, with gold in one neat pile, silver in another, and bronze in a third. Those were at the front of the vault, with heirlooms just behind them. Behind those, organized by size from largest to smallest, were the valuables. And finally, at the very back, enchanted items of all sorts. As they seemed to be in no particular order, Sebastian assumed that they were organized by enchantment.

Ciel headed straight for the back, but he soon had a little bag just like Elizabeth's and was heading back out the door.

"We'll head for Ollivander's first," he said firmly. Elizabeth nodded, eyes sparkling in excitement. "Then I suppose we can go to Madam Kashmere's for robes." He grimaced at the thought. For some reason which he couldn't fathom, tailors in general seemed strangely fond of him. Or rather, overexcited by his presence. He shivered.

"That sounds fine, Ciel," Elizabeth told him, smiling.

Then the cart took off and both of them were too distracted to talk.

Once they were outside the marble building, Ciel once again claimed the lead and directed them toward one of the shops Sebastian had noted earlier. He entered the apparently empty shop first, followed by Elizabeth and then Sebastian.

A bell tinkled as they entered, but no one seemed to be there. To anyone else, the place may have seemed eerie and alarming, but seeing as they were used to waiting for Undertaker to show himself, this hardly registered.

"Ollivander," Ciel called impatiently. "Come out, now. I know you're here."

When the old man came out, he was nearly pouting. "Ah, I see. Ciel Phantomhive. I can never seem to startle you like I can most people."

"I am not so easily surprised," he replied dryly. "I assume you know why we are here?"

Ollivander peered at him closely. "Oh, yes, you begin Hogwarts this year, don't you? I expected you last year, but you didn't come."

"I was born four months too late," Ciel scowled.

Ollivander laughed. Then he looked again and nodded to Elizabeth. "And Miss Lizzy Midford, it's always a pleasure, although you never seem particularly surprised either."

She laughed, as though it was a funny idea. "Of course not," she smiled.

"Now, for your wands," he muttered to himself, He turned and walked into the disorganized stacks of wands, piled halfway up to the ceiling. He took them out at random, at one point actually unbalancing a stack of wands. He had yelped as it tipped toward him – clearly, he had been too absorbed in his scavenging to realize that it was falling – and Sebastian had appeared in front of him, already balancing the stack again with just a few nudges.

Finally, he placed the new pile on the counter and gave Elizabeth the first one. "For you, my lady. Eleven and a half inches, ash, fairy wing. Give it a wave."

She waved the wand, looking hopeful, but all that happened was that the box exploded. She yelped. Sebastian looked slightly startled; he had forgotten the hazards of testing for a new wand.

He took the wand back hastily and gave her a new one. "Six inches, silver lime, doxy wing," he told her.

She laughed at him. "Don't be silly," she chided. "I don't care about this obsession with silver lime people seem to be having lately." But she waved the wand anyway, and, unlike last time, seemed neither surprised, nor disappointed when the wand rejected her, exploding the bell that had rung when they entered. She did yelp and drop the wand right afterward. "It burned me!"

"Doxy wings are rather temperamental," Ollivander conceded, giving her another wand. "Here, try this. Thirteen inches, alder, phoenix feather…"

More than twenty wands later, Elizabeth had found her twelve inch, supple, willow and unicorn tail hair wand.

"And now your turn…" Ollivander turned his intent gaze on Ciel. Ciel frowned at him. Perhaps it was not just tailors who were unnaturally fond of him…

Another set of wands was gathered, this time without incident, and once again set upon the counter. "Yew, thirteen and a half inches, dragon heartstring," he was told as he took the wand and flicked it once. One of the unlit torches spontaneously combusted and the wand was hastily retrieved. "Eh, perhaps not. Vine and unicorn hair-"

This time, he didn't even finish his description, as the wand seared Ciel's hand the moment he touched it, and Ollivander snatched it back. "Clearly not." Ciel glared at him balefully, inwardly scolding himself. Honestly, he should have realized demon deals and unicorn hairs would certainly not mix. "Don't look at me like that, young man. Here…"

Unlike Lizzy's twenty wands, it took almost forty before Ciel found his.

"Thirteen inches precisely, quite sturdy. Elder and hippogriff feather. Go on."

Ciel took the wand and waved it. This time, a surge of violet sparks shot out of the end, and he smirked in satisfaction as warmth surged down the wand.

Ollivander smiled at him. "That would be yours, my boy."

Ciel rolled the wand between his fingers thoughtfully. "Wand of elder, never prosper," he mused. Then he smirked. "How fitting."

"Indeed, my lord," Sebastian agreed. "You do seem to be in the habit of putting yourself in danger."

Ciel glared at him irritably. "Two wrist holsters as well," he added, speaking to Ollivander.

"And some wand polish," Elizabeth added. Ciel nodded in agreement and both of them paid for the items in question before exiting the shop.

Elizabeth looked at Ciel hopefully. "We can go to Madam Kashmere's now, can't we, Ciel? You promised!"

He sighed. "Yes, I did," he agreed reluctantly.

Without a moment's pause, she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him toward the robe shop.

Madam Kashmere's Robes for All Occasions was a robe shop that had only been around for the last twenty years. It was the latest in a long line of 'Madam's Robes for All Occasions' – the previous one having been Madam Kotten's. That one, though, had been replaced twenty years ago, when Madam Kotten herself had retired.

When they entered, Madam Kashmere, who had been sorting through robes at the back, came up to them and smiled. "Why, hello! Looking for a new set of robes?" Her eyes lingered on Ciel and he scowled at her.

"Hogwarts, actually," he contradicted crisply.

She frowned in confusion, but then smiled and laughed quietly. "A bit small for your age, I suppose. I'm sorry for assuming, dear. And for you?" she added, looking at Elizabeth. "Hogwarts as well, I suppose."

Elizabeth shook her head. "Beauxbatons, actually," she explained, smiling.

Madam Kashmere's brow wrinkled in confusion. "Oh, that's odd. I don't supply for many of their students. Family tradition, dear?"

She nodded. "Yes, my family has been going there for generations."

"Well, go on there, then," she told them, waving to a pair of stool and bustling to the back. She rummaged for a moment before returning with a tape measure. "You're first, my boy," she told Ciel. He let out an annoyed sigh as she began to measure him.

It took longer than Ciel would like and far longer than he thought was strictly necessary before he had a set of robes, and he had lost track of how many times Sebastian had stopped the woman from adding any bright colors. He had, after a short argument with Sebastian, given in and requested an extra winter cloak.

Elizabeth was practically glowing with excitement as Madam Kashmere turned to her. "And now for yours, dear girl."

Elizabeth smiled but then looked at Ciel. "Um, Ciel?"

Ciel frowned. "Lizzy?"

"I think I might take… a little while… And I know you'll be a while in the book store… why don't you head off there and I can catch up?" She looked at him hopefully, knowing that if he stayed in the robe shop with her she wouldn't be able to spend as much time there as she would like.

Ciel looked slightly relieved. "Very well, Lizzy. I suppose I'll see you later."

She nodded to him with a smile and both he and Sebastian left.

They entered Flourish and Blotts quickly and Ciel pulled out the list of school supplies to check which books he needed.

" _Magical Theory_ , by Adalbert Waffling," Ciel read off the list, with a silent order for Sebastian to memorize it. " _First Year's Standard Spells,_ by Dorthea Aberton.  _Basic Defense,_ by Charles Rakshasa.  _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi,_ by Phyllida Spore.  _Beginner's Transfiguration,_ by Evan Snart.  _Magical History,_ by Maybelle Cosenton.  _Magical Drafts and Potions,_ by Arsenius Jigger.  _A Collection of Curius Creatures,_ by Hendrick Felinin."

"I take it you will not be limiting yourself to the list, sir?" Sebastian said, with more than a hint of humor. He knew Ciel liked books.

"Don't be idiotic," grumbled Ciel. Rhetorical questions. He hated them. Well, when Sebastian asked them anyway. Damn demon.

Ciel quickly sent Sebastian off to find the average schoolbooks, and he himself went to look for more interesting ones. When he was eight, his father had still had some of the first year textbooks listed, and he, being naturally curious, had glanced through them. They had been quickly confiscated, of course, but he had seen enough to remember that they were frustratingly basic. Half the explanations merely stated the obvious!

So now he started to pick through the section of bookstore dedicated to first year level books, more in-depth. Normally, such sections were frequented by Ravenclaws, but Ciel didn't concern himself with that. Occasionally, he would choose a book that looked promising, only to shut it again in disgust. Before long, he gave up on the first year section and moved on.

The second year section was slightly better, going into a bit more detail. While normally Ciel didn't care for hoarding useless knowledge, the best way to use his magic was to learn as much about it as he could. If he did that, it would become the ultimate asset. But before he reached that point, he needed to understand it.

The first year Magical Theory textbook wasn't enough for that. It was only the what and how of the matter, not the why. He needed to know why it worked to understand it. It stated the basic laws of magic, but it did not explain them, and if they were not explained, he could not find his way around them.

Ciel picked up another book, which also looked promising. Opening it up to the table of contents, he nodded to himself a little. This book seemed to go more in-depth, detailing various aspects of magic. Ciel noted that it had an entire chapter dedicated to how the balance of word, wand, and focus created a spell, making him wonder why it wasn't standard material.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and shut the book with a snap. He looked up to find an auburn-haired boy looking at him curiously over half-moon glasses, his hand still held out.

"I couldn't help but notice that you seemed interested in magical theory," he explained. "It's an interest of mine too, but most of the detailed books are in the fourth years' section. They're simple enough, really, so I wondered if you would be interested in going through them with me. I looked at that one earlier and it should be good as a reference if we don't understand something from the higher level books, but don't be fooled by the table of contents; it's not actually very detailed." He seemed slightly annoyed by this.

Ciel gave the boy a considering look, thinking about what he'd just been told. Yes, it made sense, he supposed, about the books. The real matter of it was, should he go with the boy? On one hand, he didn't much like interacting with people in general. He found them noisy, immature, and annoying. However, this boy didn't seem to be any of those things. He supposed that, if nothing else, he could ignore the boy if he did prove irritating.

"I may as well," Ciel finally decided.

The boy smiled at him and started to lead him toward another row, which Ciel assumed was the fourth-year section. "My name is Albus Dumbledore," the boy said suddenly.

"I am Ciel Phantomhive," Ciel returned.

They reached the new area and Albus showed him where the theory books were mostly clustered. Both of them started to go through them, far more content with the selection offered in this section.  
Not long after they began to search through the shelves, one title in particular caught Ciel's eye.  _Shades of Grey: Exploring the Border_. He pulled it off the shelf to examine it.

"That interests you, huh?" Albus asked with a grin. "That's borderline dark magic. It's very powerful, but controversial. I don't mind it myself, but if you're going to look into it, you best keep it to yourself."

"Indeed," Ciel agreed quietly, opening it to somewhere in the middle. There were a few spells, along with an explanation of how it worked, why it was considered borderline dark, and a few unconventional uses for it. He smirked a little and closed it again, adding it to his pile, which so far consisted of two general theory books, one of which was the second year book he'd picked up earlier, an introduction to enchantment, and a guide to basic wandlore. He'd heard it said that understanding wandlore was one of the first steps to wandless magic - that was something he wanted to be able to do.

Before he knew it, though, he was being attacked by a pink-clothed figure, which squealed. "Ciel!"

Ciel grimaced and struggled to break free. "Hello, Elizabeth," he managed. "I take it you've finished?"

She nodded smiling. "And Sebastian apparently had time to go gather most of the rest of the supplies, so all we have left is to go to Bizarre Beasts and we're finished! Did you have fun looking at books?" She looked over at his stack of books and laughed. "It sure looks like you did!"

"I did," Ciel agreed, almost sheepishly. It really had been, well, not fun, but entertaining. He stood, picking up his stack of books, and nodded to Albus, who had looked up briefly at the commotion. "I will see you at Hogwarts, Albus."

"See you then," Albus replied distractedly, already having returned his attention to his book and pushing his glasses back up his nose.

As they exited the aisle, Elizabeth beamed at Ciel. "Ciel! You made a friend!" she exclaimed, delighted.

"I most certainly did not," Ciel denied. 'Friend' implied familiarity and emotional ties, a weakness that could be exploited, which Albus was not. "Albus is merely a newfound acquaintance, we were interested in the same area."

Elizabeth just kept smiling at him.

They reached the front of the shop and paid for the books, which were placed in a bottomless, feather-light bag, and exited the shop, with Sebastian carrying the supplies.

There was a short, silent walk before Elizabeth spotted a showcasing of baby animals in the window of Bizarre Beasts, and so, naturally, ran ahead.

"My lord," began Sebastian. "What form do you intend for me to take when I accompany you to Hogwarts?"

Ciel didn't even think about it. "You will not."

Sebastian nearly faltered mid-step, shocked. "Young Master?"

Ciel glared at him and double-checked that Lizzy was still out of earshot. Having confirmed that yes, she was, he explained, "Hogwarts is very heavily warded. These wards vary greatly - from intent wards, to anti-Apparition, and even broom repellent. The one relevant to you, however, is the demon ward."

"Wards can be broken through, my lord," Sebastian protested.

"I don't doubt it," Ciel agreed. "But should you do so, the headmaster would discover your presence immediately. He would know who and what you were, and that you were associated with me. Naturally, this means that you cannot come with me."

Sebastian was silent for a moment. "Yes, my lord," he said finally.

They caught up to Elizabeth, who instantly turned to Ciel to insist that he simply  _had_  to get an owl. It didn't take long for her to get Ciel to agree, and all three of them entered the store.  
Elizabeth quickly broke off to find an owl. Ciel himself only paused long enough to order Sebastian to find an owl that liked him before he, too, went off to find one.

A short while later, Ciel passed by yet another owl with scarcely a glance. This time, however, he was stopped short by an angry cry, coming from the owl he had just ignored.

Ciel doubled back to look at the last owl again. It was an eagle owl, small for its species, and beating its wings angrily. Its eyes were a fierce amber, and its mostly creamy grey feathers were dappled with dark splotches. Once he looked at it again, it settled somewhat, still looking a little miffed.

"Oh? So you don't like to be ignored." He slid his hand between the bars of the cage, watching it to see how it reacted.

"I wouldn't do that," warned the shopkeeper, who had been watching him closely. "She bites."

Ciel ignored him.

The owl glared at the slim hand for a moment before apparently electing to ignore it. Ciel carefully raised his hand and patted the owl on her beak. It nipped his finger - not affectionate, but not especially aggressive, either. More… irritable.

The shopkeeper stared. "I say," he murmured. "I never thought she'd find someone she liked. She's a picky gal."

Ciel smirked and the owl puffed up.

"What attributes do eagle owls have as post owls?" Ciel inquired, withdrawing his hand to inspect the owl more critically. She stood proudly, bordering on defiance, as if daring Ciel to find her lacking.

"Well, eagle owls are among the largest kinds of owl... except that one, which is kind of small." Said owl snapped at him irritably. "She's especially vicious, though. She's likely to defend her cargo to the last, and even if she's a bit of a runt-" She squawked indignantly. "more than likely, the other owl'd come away injured and with nothing to show for it."

Ciel nodded thoughtfully. "I will take her."

She settled again, satisfied.

"R-right," fumbled the shopkeeper, hurrying toward him. Ciel listened as he explained the prices for each item involved and didn't hesitate in telling him to just give him what he needed to take good care of the owl.

These items were piled on the counter, along with more of the same for Sebastian and Elizabeth. Ciel glanced at Sebastian's owl and nodded in satisfaction; a Great Horned owl, very good. And then he looked at Lizzy's.

"An Elf owl, Lizzy?" Ciel sighed.

"It's adorable!" she said, by way of explanation.

Ciel sighed again.

As they headed back toward the townhouse, Ciel's mind turned to the things he would have to do. There were plans to form, arrangements to make, and people to contact, after all. He would have to inform the Queen that his letter had arrived, for one thing, and then arrange for his paperwork to be sent to him at Hogwarts. He would get Sebastian to do that. And... oh, dear. He grimaced.

He would have to tell the servants about Hogwarts.


	3. The Train

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ciel and Albus meet again to argue about sweets.

Ciel leaned over his desk, frowning. Elizabeth had gone home, excited and happy, having extracted a promise from him to write every other week. Now, with no guests to entertain, he could begin preparations. Not that Elizabeth was a mere guest; after all, their marriage had been arranged when they were very young, only about three or four. They had first met soon after, and had, fortunately, gotten along very well. He wondered what their parents would have done if they hadn't.

He would, of course, have to begin with this letter. This letter was one to the Queen; though he was certain that she already knew. Although the Royal Family was quite familiar with the politics of the Wizarding World, it wouldn't do to not notify her.

After all, her Guard Dog couldn't just up and vanish, could he?

He frowned to himself, thinking about the collar Her Majesty had put around his neck at the age of ten; for generations, the Phantomhive family had served as the ruling monarch's shadow. It was their job to dispose of anything that caused Her Majesty grief, and to  _eliminate_ any threat to her, whether she asked them to or not, by any means they found necessary. It was a task requiring skill, cunning, and an abundance of ruthlessness. Such was the duty of the Watchdog.

The door opened, but he didn't look up, knowing that it was just the servants. He frowned and carefully chose a few more words, concluding the letter.

After a moment, he spoke. "Mey-rin. Finny. Bard."

"Yes, Young Master?" they chorused.

Ciel paused, finally signing the letter with a flourish, and turned around to look at the three servants that he had hired only six months ago to take care of the manor.

Mey-rin was the maid, assertive and bashful. Impossibly clumsy and incredibly farsighted, she was virtually unmatched in her skills as a sniper. Ciel had seen for himself that she never missed her target, even if it was just a dot in the distance. Her pinkish-red hair was pulled back and brown eyes were hidden behind thick lenses. She had come to the mansion, alone, friendless, able only to shoot a gun, and do it well.

Finny, standing beside her, was the gardener. Forgetful, clueless, and gullible, Ciel knew he was a kindhearted boy who had been given inhuman strength in a laboratory. While he often accidentally broke things, he could, and did, easily fling heavy objects at intruders, or dislodge them from trees. That he accomplished this by uprooting the tree mattered little to Ciel. Blond hair was held out of blue eyes by red clips, and his ever-present hat sat behind his head, strung around his neck. Not long ago, he had been rescued from the lab, chained and alone.

Finally, Bard was the cook. He was extremely prone to causing explosions like the one just the day before, and he was extremely hardheaded. He was also excellent at both setting and circumventing traps. When the manor was attacked with both Ciel and Sebastian absent, Bard was the main strategist. Messy blond hair and blue eyes accompanied the unlit cigarette. He had been found in the battlefield, the lone survivor, unable to return home.

Sebastian's voice interrupted his thoughts, dragging him back to the present. "Young Master?"

Ciel blinked and refocused on the three servants in front of him.

"I'm going to be going away soon," he announced.

Instantly, there was a clamor, worried protests blending with surprised exclamations. Finally, Finny's voice broke through the commotion.

"But where are you going, Master Ciel?"

He sounded anxious and distressed, though Ciel wasn't certain why. What had he to be concerned about?

"I will be attending a boarding school," he explained. "Unfortunately, the material taught there cannot be learned in most schools, and none of the other schools are nearby, so in truth I have little choice in the matter."

"Oh, dear," Mey-rin fretted. "You'll be gone a long time, you will. How will everything manage without you here?"

"I have already completed many of the preparations for my absence," Ciel dismissed. "Do not concern yourself with it; I will return for winter and Easter holidays, and for the summer. I will not be gone for long."

"And what'll we be doing all that time?" Bard asked apprehensively.

Ah. So that was what was worrying them; if he sent them away, they had nowhere else to go. With this thought, he fixed all three with an unsettlingly intense look. Finally, he replied, "The three of you will be protecting my secrets. That is, after all, your duty."

All three straightened up proudly. "Yes, Young Master!"

Over the next month, everything appeared the same on the surface. Ciel was always in his study. The servants caused chaos. Sebastian restored order. Only once did Ciel even have to depart to solve a case for Her Majesty.

In reality, the differences were significant. Ciel was constantly studying his textbooks, rather than doing paperwork. Instead of failing at doing their chores, the servants were failing at get ready for their master's absence. A sense of anticipation and expectance filled the manor with an interminable energized atmosphere.

Sebastian was still restoring order, though.

Finally, September 1st arrived and Ciel and Sebastian were heading for King's Cross. Behind them, the three servants were waving. Well, Finny and Mey-rin were, anyway.

"Goodbye, Young Master!" cried Mey-rin.

"Good luck!" added Finny.

"Bring something back for us," Bard put in gruffly.

Ciel looked over his shoulder and nodded at them before climbing into the carriage. Their goodbyes rang through the air long after he was gone from their sight.

Hours later, the carriage was still rumbling along, and Ciel was growing impatient, glancing out the window every few seconds.

"You're to send  _every piece of paperwork,_ understood?" Ciel dictated to Sebastian, absently poking an owl treat into Eliza's (as he'd named the eagle owl) cage when she gave a loud, impatient hoot.

"Yes, my lord," Sebastian acknowledged patiently, choosing not to point out that this was the fourth time that Ciel had given that order.

"Keep the servants in line. And make sure that there are as few meetings as possible while I am gone," Ciel added.

Sebastian smirked, thoroughly enjoying his master's anxiety. "Of course, my lord."

"I fully expect you to have added a section for magic to the main library by the time I return this winter. You will make it accessible only to you, myself, and Elizabeth, and it will cover most of the main topics concerning magic, from modern to ancient. You also will have reinforced a room for use as a potions lab, with an attached room stocked with ingredients of the finest quality available. There will be a smaller version of both in the townhouse and you will attach both to the Floo Network," Ciel finished. He smirked at Sebastian. "You can do that, can't you, Sebastian?"

The smirk had fallen from Sebastian's face and he sighed in aggravation. As usual, his master expected him to do the impossible. "If you so order it."

According to the rules of the contract, Sebastian was bound to his master's will. If Ciel ordered it, Sebastian obeyed, no matter the order, its consequences, or its difficulties. That was the very nature of the contract.

Ciel lifted his eye patch, exposing the violet pentagram to the open air.

"That is an order, Sebastian," he intoned. The contract symbol glowed with power.

Sebastian's smirk returned and his eyes shone with red. "Yes, my lord."

The rest of the long carriage ride passed in silence, broken only by the rumble of the carriage wheels and the neighing of the horses.

Finally, they pulled up at the station and Sebastian tied the horses to a post, before helping Ciel step down from the carriage. From there, Ciel led the way purposefully into the station and Sebastian followed with the trolley.

Ciel did not hesitate as he strode toward the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. In fact, he didn't even blink as he walked into the wall.

For a moment, Sebastian faltered, eyes widening in surprise. But then he smirked and followed, not hesitating as he passed through the apparently solid surface.

On the other side, Ciel stopped short as he spotted a familiar figure. "Madam Red? What are you  _doing_ here?"

Madam Red – a tall woman with vibrant red hair and eyes to match – laughed at him. "Well, I simply had to see my darling nephew off!" She swept him up in a tight hug that nearly strangled him. "It seems as though it was only yesterday that you and I were playing London Bridge together, and now look at you! Off to your first year at Hogwarts! I couldn't possibly miss it."

Ciel squirmed, wriggling free. He finally managed to get out of her arms and took a deep breath, attempting to regain some sense of dignity. "Yes, well… It is nice to see you as well, Madam, but I really must be going."

"I know," she sighed. "I just wanted to see you again before you left!"

"I will see you in winter, Madam," Ciel finished firmly, noting that Sebastian had located an empty compartment and was putting the trunk inside. She smiled at him and waved as he turned to board the train, and, after a moment, he waved back once.

Just before he stepped inside, he stopped and turned to look at Sebastian, who was looking back with an unreadable expression.

Ever since the formation of the contract, Sebastian had not left his side. He was like a shadow – always there, silent and dark, following his every move. This would be the first time that they were separated for any substantial length of time and Ciel wasn't certain how to react.

"I will see you this winter as well, Sebastian," Ciel told him finally. "I expect you to keep me informed as to the goings-on of the manor."  _Don't run off with another master._

Sebastian bowed. "Naturally, my lord. Until then."

Ciel nodded at him, turned away, and stepped inside the carriage.

Alone inside the empty compartment, Ciel sighed and opened the trunk, choosing one of the books inside and closing it again before settling in to read.

Not ten minutes later, he heard the compartment door slide open. He ignored it, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and leave him alone. No such luck.

"Oh, hello, Ciel."

Ciel frowned and looked up. "Oh, it's you. Hello, Albus."

"Mind if I sit here?" Albus asked. "At least I know you'll understand what I'm talking about, which is more than I can say for most of the people out there. If we talk at all, anyway."

"Go ahead, then," Ciel sighed, returning to his book.

There was a brief period of irritating noise as Albus got his own book out of his trunk and settled in. Both of them read silently, perfectly content to ignore the other, until the train started to rumble along. For a while, the only sound was the rustling of paper as one of them turned a page.

Both boys started as a knock sounded at the door.

"Would either of you boys like something off the trolley?"

They looked up to see a cheerful-looking woman pushing a cart, stocked full of candy. Albus' face lit up and Ciel's eyes sparkled.

Soon after, both of them were satisfied, and the trolley left, significantly emptier than it had been minutes before.

Albus laughed. "I see you like your sweets."

"No more than you, clearly," Ciel retorted. Albus conceded the point with a grin.

Candy wrappers rustled for a moment, and then Albus took a bite, smiling.

"Licorice wands are the best," Albus declared with certainty.

"Chocolate is far better," Ciel disagreed.

"Nonsense!" Albus insisted. "Prove it."

"Is that a challenge?"

Albus nodded. Ciel smirked.

Ciel, as head of the Phantomhive family, also owned the family business: Funtom Corporation. Internationally famous, formed by Ciel's father, Vincent, and expanded by Ciel himself, Funtom was a children's company through-and-through, manufacturing all manner of toys, games and sweets. Ciel personally oversaw and maintained every aspect of his business.

Ciel knew a lot about candy.

"While licorice comes in various shapes and flavors, all sharing a satisfying, chewy texture, chocolate is extraordinarily flexible. It comes in a great many flavors and can be added to various foods or, conversely, have various foods added to it in order to improve flavor and texture. Licorice has no such flexibility and must remain more or less isolated in order to retain even remotely equal quality, making it far inferior to chocolate."

Albus, though, knew a lot about people.

"You make an excellent point, Ciel, but the inflexibility of licorice is what makes it a well-loved treat that people will enjoy time and time again. It's a time-honored, tried-and-true confection and that alone draws people in. Besides that, the more literal flexibility of licorice makes it as fun to play with as it is to eat. Finally, licorice has a very consistent flavor, unlike chocolate, which is different every time you try it. It's a dependable, traditional candy that's popular for a very good reason."

"The sheer variety and novelty of chocolate is one of the things that makes it so popular," Ciel countered.

"But people like to buy a candy that they know they'll enjoy," Albus argued.

There was a moment of silence as both of them tried to stare the other into submission.

"You know a lot about candy," Albus said finally.

"You know a lot about people," Ciel conceded.

"No, really, you know a  _lot_ about candy," Albus pressed, looking interested.

Ciel shrugged. "I  _do_ own a confectionary business; it simply comes with the territory."

Rather than causing Albus to leave it well enough alone, it made him more interested still. This was not what Ciel had been going for.

"You own a business? What precisely does that entail?"

"Paperwork," Ciel grumbled, crossing his arms, book forgotten on the seat beside him. At Albus' cross look, he conceded, "There are also business meetings, dinners, and the like. I prefer to personally test each of Funtom's new products, as I am young enough to enjoy them. But it is mostly paperwork."

Albus nodded thoughtfully. "Funtom? That Muggle children's company?"

"Yes," Ciel affirmed. "I inherited it from my father."

The conversation ended and there were a few minutes of silence. Ciel was about to go open his book again when Albus asked suddenly, "Have you read many of the books you found?"

Ciel nodded, turning his head to look out the window instead. "Most of them, yes. It's all quite fascinating, really, but I would rather read them when I am in a position to test the spells."

"Agreed," Albus decided. "It is quite frustrating to be unable to apply what I've learned."

"I'd imagine we'll soon be rid of that problem," Ciel dismissed.

Albus grinned and nodded. "Especially in classes. I'm looking forward to Transfiguration, personally. What about you?"

"This year? Charms, I suppose. I look forward to the time when I can take Enchantment."

"Enchantment?" Albus frowned and shrugged. "I've never been all that interested, but each to his own, I suppose."

"It seems likely to prove useful," Ciel explained. "Transfiguration, while it has its own benefits, particularly in dire situations, is more difficult to use casually and less likely to be of use in everyday life."

"But it's those dire situations that test your knowledge the most," Albus pointed out.

"True," Ciel acquiesced. "But I prefer to know that I will be able to use what I learn on more than an occasional basis."

"Transfiguration can be used regularly," Albus objected.

"I'm sure it can. So can Charms and Enchantment. Enchanted objects are used quite often, in fact."

In this manner, the two first years continued to converse, arguing back and forth. Each one relished in the rare challenge to their minds, and, even with neither one particularly fond of people (Ciel less so than Albus), neither of them made any attempt to put an end to the conversation, every now and then going so far as to specifically keep it going, unwilling for the interesting discussion to end.

"Why do you have an eye patch, anyway?" Albus asked suddenly, moving away from the subject of classes as he grew more comfortable with the boy across from him – enough to allow his admittedly nosy nature to temporarily take control. "It makes you look like a pirate. Your endless glaring doesn't help," he added when Ciel glared at him.

Ciel maintained the glare for a moment longer before letting it drop into a mildly annoyed scowl. "My eye was deformed in an incident that took place just over a year and a half ago; I prefer not to talk about it, much as I imagine you dislike speaking of your father's arrest."

A frown flashed across Albus' features before he let the subject drop. "What house do you think you'll be in?"

Ciel didn't even have to think about it, replying instantly, "Slytherin."

Albus appeared a bit surprised, but not shocked. "You sound pretty certain about that."

Ciel shrugged. "My family has always been in Slytherin, and I myself possess many of the most well-known traits of the house. Really, there is no doubt. And yourself?"

Albus smiled ruefully. "I'm less certain. I could be in Slytherin – I have some of the best-known traits as well – but my family is usually in Gryffindor and I've got quite a few of those characteristics as well."

Ciel 'hm'ed thoughtfully. "A Slytherin Gryffindor. Well, that's not too terribly unusual, despite popular opinion that they are absolute opposites. Although…" He wrinkled his nose. "I do hope you have none of the Gryffindor foolishness they call bravery."

Albus just grinned at him. Ciel scowled.

The pair passed the rest of the train ride this way, just talking. Before they knew it, the train had rumbled to a halt, and the conversation with it as they both looked up, excitement kindling as they realized where they now were.

They had arrived at Hogsmeade.


	4. The Singing Hat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which lakes are fallen into, Peeves is annoying, and Ciel hates the Sorting Hat.

Before long, Albus was lost in the crowd and Ciel was on his own again, trying to figure out where to go.

"First years! First years, please come this way!"

The crisp, but friendly voice rang through the air, and Ciel started to push his way toward it, struggling through the sea of people. Slowly but surely, he made his way through to the cluster of people who were only slightly taller than him.

He spotted the woman – tall, black-haired, and young-looking, with friendly brown eyes and a slightly round face – quickly, as she made the last call for first years, waited, and then commanded, "First years, come with me! Quickly, now!"

More than once, Ciel stumbled as they made their way down the dark hill. Soon he could make out the sparkle of water a little way's away.

"Only four to a boat, please!" she called. "No more than four!"

Ciel sighed and climbed unsteadily into the nearest boat, already full with three first years. It rocked slightly as he stepped on, and with a call from the professor to hold on, the boats began to move under their own power.

Ciel heard a cry off to the side and looked over disinterestedly.

A boat had capsized, two of the first years that had previously occupied it flailing in the water. Three more clung frantically to the side. It seemed that they thought the rules beneath them.

"I said no more than four to a boat!" the woman complained, making her way over to them. She helped one first year back into the boat, which she righted with a flick of her wand. The other winced as he was pulled into hers, leaving the previously overcrowded boat with only four students. As they came to an alcove, the entrance sealed by ivy, she added, "Duck!"

They did so, and when they looked up again, now on the other side, gasps and murmurs rang through the small groups at the sight before them.

A tall castle loomed over them, striking in its majesty and breathtaking in its elegance. Towers and turrets rose from the main body, many of the windows lit with a soft glow, and the gray stone was bathed in beautiful moonlight, giving the entire array a mystical air. The backdrop of bright, sparkling stars on midnight blue only added to the magical atmosphere. Even the lake before them, a shattered mirror of the night sky, seemed to shine brighter in the presence of the castle.

They landed at the edge of the lake and all the first years scrambled to get out of their boats, one of which nearly tipped in the students' haste. They followed the professor to the castle, excited chatter breaking out among the small clusters. Ciel walked alone, avoiding conversation with the other students.

Waiting for them at the entry was another professor. This one was male, a little taller than the woman who brought them there, and more than a touch round. "Thank you, Vivian," he said pompously. "Go on, off to the feast with you."

'Vivian' gave him an amused look. "Very well, Professor Smith. Do try not to scare them."

She brushed past him, leaving the man sputtering indignantly. "I don't scare the first years!" he objected. When no response came, he huffed and beckoned to the first years, turning to enter the castle. "Come," he called. "Come, little first years." His voice, while clearly an attempt to sound friendly and encouraging, actually came out rather creepy. The closest first years edged back several feet, leaving Professor Smith looking quite put out as he led them into the building.

The Entrance Hall of Hogwarts was at least three times as big as the one in Phantomhive manor, Ciel noted, and that one was quite large. He glanced up, seeing a ceiling far above them, mostly blocked from view by staircase upon moving staircase. Professor Smith finally stopped and turned around just in front of a particularly large door.

"So, ah, welcome to Hogwarts," he began. "In a short while, each of you will be Sorted into one of four Houses: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, or Hufflepuff. Each House is equally messed up in its own way and each one has committed many foolish and many great feats." He smiled, looking slightly more manic because of it. "A House is a bit like a really big, really dysfunctional family liable to turn on you at any moment that you can date within. Doing good things will earn you House points, and doing bad things will lose them. The House with the most points at the end of the year wins the House cup, which is most of the reason why the Houses are so messed up." He looked slightly gleeful at this notion, and several first years were looking increasingly alarmed with each word. As he turned and left, there was a sudden upswell of panicked murmuring.

That didn't last long – no sooner had Professor Smith left than something came shooting out of the wall, pausing directly above them to leer, cackling madly.

"Ickle firs- _ties!_ " he said with relish. The ghostlike figure then dive-bombed the group of 'ickle firsties', who shrieked and scattered. He, however, went straight for Ciel, who stiffened as he felt his eye patch be ripped from his head. In a flash, he realized who it was, clamping a hand over his marked eye.

"Peeves!" he yelled, remembering his father's tales of the prankster poltergeist.

Peeves, already back in the air, turned and stuck his tongue out at Ciel, twirled the eye patch around his finger. "Got your patch!" he said cheerfully, dangling it just out of Ciel's reach.

"Give it  _back!_ " Ciel snarled, reaching up with his hands. Angry magic crackled slightly, causing several first years to back away.

Peeves blew him a raspberry.

Ciel gave him a searing glare.

Peeves yelped and dropped the eye patch as Ciel's magic, responding to his anger, lashed out and burned his tongue. Satisfied, Ciel calmly bent down and retrieved the small strip of cloth as the door opened.

"What happened here?" Professor Smith demanded, taking in the scene before him.

There was a large empty circle of space in the cluster of first years, with a single student in the center of that space. Said student was ignoring him in favor of tying what was very clearly an eye patch to his head. Surprised murmurs were running through the crowd, accompanied by some scattered clapping. Above it all, Peeves was hanging in the air, holding his tongue and looking dismayed.

Having successfully retrieved and replaced his patch, Ciel turned to the professor and gave him an expectant look, ignoring the stares directed at him. "You were going to take us to be Sorted?" he prompted, offering no explanation.

Professor Smith shut his mouth and turned on his heel, leading the group through the door.

Ciel looked around, fiasco forgotten in favor of looking around the Great Hall. Four tables full of students, each featuring different colors and crests, took up most of the main floor. At the front was the head table, populated by teachers of all sorts, ranging from young to old and big to small. He tilted his head back and his eyes widened as he saw the ceiling. It appeared to open into the air above, giving a clear view of the night sky. An endless stretch of darkest blue was speckled with pinpoints of bright light, shining down into the candlelit hall. He took no notice as silence fell, a stool being brought to the front and a tattered hat set upon it.

He did, however, notice when the hat began to sing.

He was startled out of his annoyed contemplation of the  _singing hat_ by a mirthful voice in his ear.

"I believe the professors will be most annoyed if you cause the Sorting Hat to catch fire, Ciel."

Ciel, who hadn't even realized that he was glaring at the hat in the first place, turned his glare on Albus instead.

"I have no desire to spontaneously combust, either," Albus informed him, undeterred.

Ciel sighed and rolled his eyes, allowing his glare to fall. "Why do I even talk to you, Albus?"

Albus smiled cheekily and opened his mouth to respond just as the Sorting began with 'Ashford, Andromeda."

The sudden, absolute silence was deafening when pitted against even the soft murmuring of moments before, and it was only broken when the Hat spoke again.

"RAVENCLAW!"

The girl waited for the hat to be removed from her head before she scurried over to the blue-crested Ravenclaw table, settling there and smiling at the student next to her before turning to watch the sorting with fascination.

Ciel just listened, bored, as the list went on, through the A's and the B's, to the C's and the D's. He looked up, suddenly interested, as he heard a familiar name.

"Dumbledore, Albus."

Albus tapped his shoulder, grinning excitedly, and Ciel shifted slightly to let him by. Albus darted past him in an auburn-topped blur.

He plopped himself down on the stool and the ragged hat slid over his head, just dropping down over his eyes. They waited for one tense, anticipation-filled moment. Two.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Albus beamed and the hat had barely cleared his head before he darted off to the red-and-gold decorated table. Ciel's gaze followed him as he sat next to a green-tinged boy; Ciel would guess that had had just recently recovered from a bout of dragon pox. Albus smiled at the boy, and the boy beamed back and started to talk to him. Albus bit back a wince at the obviously rapid-fire speech. Ciel caught his eye and gave him a smirk. Albus gave him a nasty look in reply.

Ciel tuned out Professor Smith as the Sorting continued. Finally…

"Phantomhive, Ciel."

Ciel walked forward, head held high. It wasn't as if he didn't already know where he was going, after all. Someone like him could only go to one house.

He perched upon the stool and the hat dropped over his eyes… and past his nose. He scowled.

"Ah, well aren't you interesting, little Phantomhive," the hat whispered in his ear. He scowled again. Why did  _everyone_ feel the need to call him 'little Phantomhive'? Or fiend. Sometimes it was fiend. "Hufflepuff is, of course, out of the question."

 _Naturally,_ Ciel grumbled mentally. No one had ever accused him of being loyal.

"Indeed. Your intelligence serves you well, I see, and you have courage. Oh, yes, plenty of that, there. But, of course... we both know where you are going to go, with your ambition and cunning."

 _Get on with it, hat,_ Ciel ordered testily.

"Impatient, aren't we? Very well. SLYTHERIN!" the hat called to the whole room. The hat was removed from Ciel's head and he immediately rose, walking with purposeful strides toward the green and silver snake table. His gaze travelled over it, seeking out an empty place, and he soon found one, sitting in it.

Across from him, a boy stared with wide eyes. "Is that an eye patch?" he blurted out, almost as soon as Ciel had sat.

Ciel gave him a ferocious glare, incongruent to his slight form, and the student flinched. Ciel did not answer.

Next to him, another boy, unaffected by the glare, began to pelt him with questions that ranged from mundane and generic to personal. Regardless of their nature, Ciel ignored all of them, vainly trying to tune him out as he was the Sorting.

It was not working.

Finally, the Sorting ended, and the headmaster stood, clapping his hands together twice. "SILENCE!"

Instantly, there was silence.

"I would quite like to remain silent myself," the headmaster, whom Ciel recognized as Phineas Nigellus Black, informed them all. "But alas, tradition dictates that I give a start-of-term speech. Firstly, I would like to remind you that I despise each and every one of you brats and wish to express my  _sincere_ hope that you actually learn something of note this year." His gaze travelled over the tables and a sneer covered his features, making it clear that he was not sincere, nor did he believe that they really would manage to learn something of note. More than one student glared at him. "A starting list of forbidden items has been posted within Mr. Rundon's office, so I have no doubt that all of you will indeed be given the opportunity to read it at least once this year. As per usual, the Forbidden Forest is out-of-bounds, though I encourage all of you brats to venture into it anyway; then I won't have to deal with you anymore. That is all, so hurry up and eat so that we can all retire to our rooms."

He sat back down, and suddenly there was food of every sort piled up and down the tables. There was a rapid scramble as everyone began to serve themselves, and Ciel waited for it to die down before picking some food of his own.

He glanced back to the Gryffindor table and smirked. Albus was still being pestered by the green boy and, as he was too soft to simply ignore him as Ciel was doing, he was halfheartedly participating. He was beginning to look quite exasperated with it, actually, though the boy didn't seem to notice.

Absently, Ciel noted that the boy beside him had not been deterred by his own silence, and was still trying to talk to him. He also found that he couldn't quite find it in himself to care.

He tasted the food and nodded to himself. It wasn't as good as Sebastian's, but it would do for the school year.

"Hey, are you listening to me?"

Ciel put down his fork and glared at the boy. "Do you ever  _shut up?_ " he demanded.

The boy closed his mouth.

Satisfied, Ciel turned back to his food, content to ignore the offended boy beside him as he considered how the year may go. His gaze wandered over to the head table, but he recognized only a few of the teachers and he let his attention drift elsewhere.

Elizabeth, he mused, would be at Beauxbatons by now. Probably making friends already, knowing her. Sebastian would be annoyed and bored, impatient with the situation in general. The servants would be keeping him occupied, of course, doing their level best to inadvertently destroy the manor. Ciel's order to make improvements to the manor and townhouse, when considered in tandem with the fact that Sebastian would repeatedly have to redo them because of explosions and his need to maintain order, would most likely keep the demon busy until Ciel returned home.

Madam Red, he thought, would be in bed already, or possibly at a social occasion of some sort. Lau, an acquaintance of his who kept track of certain underworld dealings concerning his opium business, and Undertaker, a mortician whom he was familiar with, on the other hand… well, who knew what they were doing?

By now he had finished his food, and across the hall, entrees and side dishes vanished and were replaced by desserts of all kinds, which claimed Ciel's attention almost immediately.

It wasn't at all long before those, too, vanished. Ciel stood as he heard yet another call for first years, and followed a tall prefect back to the door.

As they walked, the prefect explained, "The Slytherin common room is down in the dungeons." They began to descend the stairs as he continued. "During the winter, it's kept warm with Warming Charms and fires, so don't worry about that. The location is actually convenient, because the Potions teacher – also housed in the dungeons, where the Potions labs are – is almost always the Slytherin head. This means that, unlike the other houses, we never have to go far to speak with our Head of House."

They finally reached the dungeons and were led to a section of wall. The prefect pointed to a lit wall lantern, which was engraved with a tiny, motionless snake.

"That's the only lamp with a snake that doesn't move, so the common room is easy to find," he explained. To the wall, he added, "Cunning snake."

The wall slid open, revealing a short hallway decorated in silver and green, and they followed the prefect through to the other side.

"This is the Slytherin common room," he informed them. "Wake early, understood? There will be a meeting of Slytherin house in the morning to convey certain vital information that will help you achieve your goals in Hogwarts. Now, it is late and time for all of you to go to bed. Boys on the left, and girls on the right, go on."

The group separated, heading for their separate bedchambers. Ciel was the first in his room, and struggled slightly to change into his pajamas, carefully keeping his back (which held a very distinct brand mark from his time with the cult) to the wall. One by one, other first years entered the chamber, until there were exactly seven of them. Each seemed content to ignore him and each other, and so they changed in silence, soon drifting off to sleep in the cool dungeon air.


	5. The Classes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which nightmares are had, ink is lavender, and potions are made.

_Ciel stared down at the body. The face was wrapped in a mask, feathered and decorated with an unusual grandeur for_ that group,  _but its wearer was clearly dead. This was a person of importance. This… this was their leader._

_He had had his revenge._

_It was an odd feeling, almost hollow. His revenge wasn't meant to be hollow. If it was, then why had he…?_

_"Young Master."_

_He turned with no small amount of dread. Just behind him, Sebastian stood tall, looking down at him with a foreboding expression._

_"The deal is complete," Ciel stated quietly. And now for his end._

_"Yes, Young Master," Sebastian agreed, not looking the least bit bothered. "I believe it is now time for me to claim my due."_

_Ciel flinched, a shudder wracking his body, but he did not run. He would never run. "I gave you my word."_

_"That you did, master." Sebastian bent, bringing his face closer to Ciel's, and took the boy's chin in his hand. Ciel screwed his eyes shut as the face grew nearer, but he still gasped when the devil's lips reached his._

_Sebastian took in the gasp and then inhaled sharply, and Ciel could comprehend no more but the unbearable_ agony  _that shook him to his core, because he was being ripped apart, he was being obliterated, he wished he was dead, he wished he had never lived, it_ hurt…

_Agony! Everything was agony. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, his essence was being torn apart, decimated, destroyed, and his identity was but a distant memory in the face of this. Nothing mattered, he could remember nothing, he was dying, he was worse than dying, he was being reduced to nothing, to less than nothing, as if he never had been at all, and it hurt, it hurt…_

Ciel woke with a gasp and a cry ready to spill from his lips. Sweat-soaked locks were plastered to his forehead and for a moment he just trembled, forgetting where he was.

When he finally processed the cold stone walls and the slate floor, four poster beds bordering the room he was in, he sighed, forcing himself to relax.

It was just a nightmare.

Ciel frowned, shaking his head slightly. It had been a long time since he had dreamed of the day Sebastian would finally eat his soul, but the thought was no less terrifying than it had been before. But in the end, he knew, it would be worth it. It  _would._

It had to be.

He scowled and turned to put his feet on the floor, then unlatched his trunk, reaching for his robes. He pulled them out and frowned at them for a moment, considering them.

It had been around two years since his parents had last reminded him how to do this, but he remembered fine. He was pretty sure, anyway.

He ventured into the bathroom, wary of his roommates waking, and couldn't resist the temptation to sneak a glance in a mirror.

There, on his right eye, the mark of the contract glared at him, blazing lavender on his violet eye. The mark that both saved and damned him. He shut his eyes and looked away, forcibly refocusing his attention to the articles of clothing in his hands.

He struggled to change into his robes, and was glad he had gotten up so early – it took him a long time to remember completely how to put it on, and his eye patch took almost as long. It most likely didn't help that he was distinctly preoccupied, distracted as the remnants of his nightmare – one he had had so many times before, yet not in so long – pulled at his attention, claiming it. But by the time he had managed it, he was still the only one up, and he went down to the common room alone, his book bag slung over his shoulder.

He looked around, this time paying attention to his surroundings. It was very much a dungeon, with high-backed chairs that suited their surroundings well. A fire crackled in an elaborate mantelpiece, and green-tinged lamps hung around the room, adding a green tinge to the rough stone set in the walls. It was somewhat creepy, actually, but Ciel didn't mind.

He grimaced, tugging slightly at the heavy robe. He remembered now why he hated the things. They were so difficult to move around in!

He sat in one of the chairs in a corner, with just enough light to read by. He cracked open a book on magical theory and absorbed the information, readily accepting the distraction from his thoughts.

Finally, steps echoed down from the girls' staircase and Ciel glanced up.

"Oh, you're already up?" frowned the girl. Then she shook herself and looked at him. Her eyes, he noted, were very dark, almost black and seemingly bottomless, and her disposition, though not unfriendly, seemed almost forbidding, like that of a strict teacher. "My name is Matilda Prince. I am the Slytherin prefect."

"Hello, Matilda," Ciel replied. "I am Ciel Phantomhive."

Slight interest and a hint of concern sparked in her eyes. "Phantomhive, you say?" When he nodded, she warned, "Look out for Marvolo Gaunt. He is extremely anti-Muggle, so he has a grudge against those families who choose to mingle with them."

He tilted his head slightly, contemplating this, and then nodded. "Thank you for the warning. I'll do my best to avoid him."

She nodded coolly and, apparently satisfied, sat in another chair. Silence reclaimed the common room and Ciel resumed his reading.

One by one, students – mostly the anxious first years – trickled down and joined them. Before long, all of the first years had arrived, and Matilda stood, clapping her hands once to gain their attention. Instantly, all eyes were on her.

"First years!" she called, somewhat unnecessarily. Her presence called attention, imposing silence upon the room. "I am Matilda Prince, Slytherin prefect. If, for any reason, your fellow Slytherins are giving you trouble, come seek either me, Aries Malfoy, or Professor Britton."

She nodded at a blond-haired boy lounging on one of the chairs, wearing a disinterested expression as he regarded them. Ciel recognized him as the prefect who had shown them to the common room the night before. She continued. "Other houses may harbor some resentment against you simply because you are a Slytherin; our house has a long-held reputation for being untrustworthy and manipulative. They may question your motives and second-guess your intentions. But remember, you can still make friends with them!"

She paused, watching for signs of understanding. Seeing a few scattered smiles, ranging from relieved to shy to just plain happy, she continued again. "Hogwarts is a special place. For the next seven years, it will be your second home as well as your place of learning. It is, however, very difficult to navigate and very easy to get oneself lost. The staircases, as you may have noted, move as they please, and many of the doors open only if you do precisely as you are meant to. For the first two weeks, slight tardiness will be tolerated as you learn the paths of Hogwarts. However, after that, you are expected to be on time, and not one minute later." She smirked. "In addition, as members of the proud house of cunning, you are fully expected to locate secret passages to be used at your leisure.

"First years' curfew is nine o'clock. I suggest you be in bed by eight thirty. In the morning, you will wake by seven thirty and be in the Great Hall by eight. Is that understood?"

A few people nodded, and she, in return, nodded briskly and turned to exit the common room.

After the door swung shut, there was a short silence in which no one moved, thoughts occupied by the speech given by the prefect, who was currently being followed by Aries. Finally, Ciel rolled his eyes and shouldered his bag, heading off toward the Great Hall.

Ciel's first class was Transfiguration with the Gryffindors.

The goofy Professor Smith of the night before was nowhere to be seen in the serious man standing in front of them as he began to speak.

"Transfiguration is a highly important and extremely risky branch of magic. Many things can and will go wrong in the process and in particularly bad cases, Madam Sprout may not be able to fix it. And then you'll have to live with a turnip nose or some such for the rest of your lives."

Well, almost nowhere to be seen.

As he finished his warning, he passed out Muggle pens, which they were then instructed to transfigure into quills. A long explanation, which Ciel only half listened to, had them beginning the first of their attempts, with the clear point that Professor Smith did not actually expect many of them to succeed this class.

Ciel frowned thoughtfully at his pen and considered for a moment, recalling some of the key points in the books he had read. He flicked his wand, but nothing happened. A scowl pulled at his mouth, but then he forcibly calmed, reminding himself that getting furious would only be detrimental.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, recalling what he had read about the art of Transfiguration. He'd gone through more than one book…

Visualization. That was the most important, he remembered, but such things were very different in theory than in practice, and he would have to develop his own way of visualizing. But for now, he thought back to what the books had said. He had to imagine the quill, feel the feather, see himself using the quill. Then there was the wand movement. A flick was all well and good, but it was to end at the pen, not begin at it. With an object this small, focusing on his magic was unnecessary, but to do so would only help him later on.

With this in mind, he opened his eyes again and flicked his wand at the pen. With a tingling rush of magic, from his chest, down his arm, and finally out through the wand, it morphed – slower than he would have liked – into a smooth quill, glossy and black. He smirked. Success.

As if from nowhere, Professor Smith appeared in front of him. "Very good, Mr. Phantomhive! You passed the first test. It looks like a quill."

Ciel glowered up at him.

Professor Smith, however, took no notice. Rather, he rummaged in one of his pockets and thrust a piece of parchment at Ciel. "Now write with it!"

Ciel's glower intensified into a glare, but he took the parchment and quickly flicked the tip of the quill across it. "What the devil…?"

It wrote just fine. But the ink was an almost luminescent lavender – the very same color as his contract, in fact. It seemed that, at least subconsciously, his nightmare was still on his mind.

"That's a rather interesting ink color," commented Professor Smith. "I've never seen a student produce that color before."

Ciel cast him a death glare and picked up his wand again as the professor walked away. With another flick and an intense focus, he changed the ink's color. When he scribbled across the scrap of parchment again, the ink was red. Vivid, blood red, like Sebastian's eyes.

He growled furiously and flicked his wand one last time. Black. Good. He set the quill down, satisfied, and returned his wand to its holster.

After that, Ciel packed his bag and read his potions book in preparation for the next class, not even pausing to make a note of the assignment when Professor Smith wrote it across the board. As it was only to practice the spell, it was hardly as if it applied to him.

Most of the class, he later noted, never did manage to transfigure their pens, lavender-inked or otherwise. Inwardly, he sneered as he started toward the dungeons. He had Potions with the Gryffindors, if Ciel remembered correctly. Well, at least he was guaranteed competent company, if Albus was as good with practical application as he was with theory.

He quickly located the auburn and headed toward him. Albus spotted him quickly and grinned. Ciel sat beside him and frowned as he noted that it was one of the few three-person tables in the room. He shot Albus a faintly annoyed look.

"In case Elphias got here before you," he explained with a barely-perceptible grimace.

"Elphias… ah, that boy who was speaking to you at the feast the other night? The green one?"

Albus nodded. "Yes. Elphias Doge, he said his name was."

They continued to talk as more and more people filtered into the dungeon. Eventually, they were joined by the aforementioned green boy, and as soon as Albus noted this, he explained,

"Elphias, this is Ciel Phantomhive. Ciel, this is Elphias."

Elphias gave Ciel a slightly shy smile and Ciel gave him a polite nod in return. He and Albus quickly returned to their conversation, which Elphias – looking slightly befuddled but still content – made no indication of wishing to join.

Finally, everyone had arrived and another door, most likely leading to either the storeroom or Professor Britton's office, opened, letting through a woman with wavy, almost curly, dark blonde hair, greasy with potions fumes.

"My name is Professor Britton," she informed them. "I teach one of the most varied and complex forms of magic: Potions. To be successful in Potions class, you need to be attentive, meticulous, and cautious. Mistakes must be few and instructions need to be followed to the letter. This, however, will not be enough for those few of you who will pursue a career in potionmaking. Each ingredient, every element in the potionmaking process, impacts the final result, coming together in a way few can understand and fewer can formulate. Everything, from the heat of the fire to the ambient magic of the room and even the aura of the maker, takes a role in the process. A Potion Master knows this and understands precisely how ingredients come together to become a potion. I do not expect many, if any, of you to reach this level of understanding, but that is not why you are here. In this class, you will learn how to make many of the most important potions in everyday life, starting with the Hiccuping Solution. Ingredients are in the cupboard and instructions are on the board. Begin!"

Albus scanned the ingredient list quickly, but before he could get up to head for the cupboard, Elphias hopped up, heading for the open cabinet. Albus was startled for only a moment before he shrugged and leaned down to help Ciel get the fire going instead.

Elphias returned, arms full with strange and exotic things, and set them on the table. Automatically, Albus reached for the first one, and Ciel finished setting the fire, sitting up and taking the second one.

They progressed through the potion quickly. More than once, Elphias – who, unlike the two students he was partnered with, was not exacting in his standards – was prevented from tossing in an ingredient too soon, but, for the most part, he did fine, and as the class went on, these mistakes were made less and less. Once, Ciel made to add in one, and was stopped by a hand on his wrist.

"You need to reduce the heat a little more," Albus told him, not looking up.

Ciel frowned, but looked again. Albus was correct, and he scowled before doing so. Later, he stopped Albus from making a similar mistake.

Finally, class ended. They were left with a potion that was, according to Professor Britton, perfect. Ciel and Albus, bottling a vial of their potion, shared a smirk and a grin, respectively.

"We work well together," Albus commented.

"Yes," Ciel replied, almost thoughtfully. It wasn't often that there was someone that he got along with so easily. "I suppose we do."

And Ciel smiled.


	6. The Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a teacher pisses Ciel off.

Ciel's good mood lasted all the way through lunch, but ended soon after he set foot in the History classroom. The reason for this was at the front of the classroom, shuffling papers, not even looking up as students entered.

Ciel sat beside Albus, who had arrived ahead of him with Elphias in tow, and when the entire class had entered, the professor looked up and began to speak. His voice was monotonous and drawling, and half the students instantly began to nod off.

"I am Professor Binns. During this class, you will take notes as I speak. There will be no talking. You will not interrupt."

This was all he said before he began to recite something, obviously well-rehearsed, not even glancing at his notes. Ciel glanced at Albus, who grimaced back and took out two sheets of paper. Ciel shot him a questioning look and on one, he made a note of one of the people Binns had mentioned. On the other, he began his Potions homework.

Ciel smirked and decided that this was an excellent idea. He reached into his bag for another roll of parchment and began the same assignment, listening to Professor Binns with half an ear, and occasionally even taking a note.

It was mere minutes before most of the class, with Albus and Ciel as the sole exceptions, was asleep. Only the scratch of quill on paper, and Albus' occasional attempts to rouse Elphias, broke the monotony of Professor Binns' voice.

What felt like an eternity later, Binns stopped talking. Students around the room stirred slightly, eyes opening groggily.

"Class dismissed," he announced.

That was all it took to awaken the class and send them scrambling for the door, eager to break free of the monotony. It was readily apparent that History of Magic was not going to be anyone's favorite class anytime soon. Maybe when Binns died.

Ciel packed up a little slower and met Albus just outside the classroom. Elphias looked relieved to be out of there, and they walked away silently, none of them particularly interested in conversation.

The small group reached a split in the hallway, where a ghost was just floating by. Ciel quickly recognized him and called out, "Baron!"

The grim ghost turned his head toward him. "Yes?"

Elphias yelped.

Ciel paid him no mind. "Do you mind pointing the way to the Charms and Astronomy classrooms?"

The Bloody Baron gave no verbal reply at first, but instead lifted his hand to point down one of the three halls branching from the one they currently occupied. "The Astronomy tower is that way," he croaked. "I will accompany Mr. Phantomhive to the Charms room; I hear he has particular trouble with Peeves."

"Thank you, Baron," Albus smiled, turning toward the indicated hallway, and politely ignoring the way Elphias clutched at his arm.

The Bloody Baron turned and began floating down a different hallway. Ciel hurried to catch up, and then walked alongside him.

For a while, there was silence. Not a word was spoken as they began the journey to the classroom.

In the end, it was the Baron who broke the silence. "When I still lived, dark and black magic ran through my veins. Even now, I can easily sense large concentrations of soul magic."

Ciel concealed a cold tingle of fear by snapping, "Interesting, but irrelevant to me."

"I don't think so, young Phantomhive," the Baron disagreed. "How long has it been since you damned your soul?"

Ciel stopped moving, turning a searing glare on the ghost beside him. The Baron stopped too, unaffected by the glare as he stared at Ciel piercingly. Ciel crossed his arms defiantly.

"How long has that mark forced you to hide your eye?" the Baron pressed.

Ciel glared at him for a moment more before he abruptly started walking again, a little too briskly. "Almost two years," he muttered.

"I see," the Baron said softly. He floated a little ahead of Ciel, and neither spoke again until just outside the classroom. For a moment, both of them paused outside it.

"I will not tell the headmaster of your devil," the Baron told him. "But remember, little Phantomhive – there is no escape from this fate."

"I know," Ciel replied.

Without another word, the Baron turned and exited out the wall. For just a moment, Ciel stared after him, and then turned and walked into the classroom. His thoughts lingered on the Baron's words, which in turn stirred up the dregs of his longtime nightmare. And he brooded.

He went through Charms, which he had with the Hufflepuffs, with his mind only half on the lesson, halfheartedly listening to the cocky and cheerful Professor Meyden Lockhart. Nonetheless, he did fine, listening to her explanation of the magic of Charms, and taking notes as she spoke. Today's lesson was not a practical one; he was glad of that, uncertain that he could summon the focus to properly manage a spell.

It seemed like a long time before class ended, but Ciel's mind was still not on the class. In this absent manner, he wandered until he found the Great Hall.

Slowly, as dinner progressed, his mind was released from its preoccupation. He frowned, wondering what to do now, and then decided to find the library.

Once he had found it, at least half an hour after he had decided to, it was a simple matter to commandeer an isolated table in the corner. He was not joined; unsurprisingly, no one wanted to be in the company of the irritable first year with the eye patch.

"Hello, Ciel."

Except Albus, apparently.

"Hello, Albus," Ciel returned, still focused on the Charms assignment in front of him. "What brings you here?"

Albus sat in the chair beside him. "Same as you, I suppose. For a quiet place and any number of books."

Ciel 'hm'ed and finished the essay rapidly, and then packed it away. "I don't suppose you've finished your work already?"

"Actually, I have," Albus informed him. "That was your last assignment, correct?"

Ciel nodded.

Albus' eyes began to shine with excitement. "What do you say we practice some of those spells?"

Ciel looked up and met Albus' eyes. His own glinted with interest. He replied with just one word, brisk and barely concealing a hint of excitement. "Outside."

Once outside, Albus pulled out a book, and Ciel, still standing, leaned over Albus' kneeling form to look at it. It was a DADA book, he noted.

Albus pointed at one spell, which Ciel had to admit looked particularly interesting. "Let's try this one first."

Spell after spell was practiced and mastered, each one more interesting and complex than the last. Only when Ciel noted that curfew was in a mere ten minutes did they stop, forced to return to their respective common rooms.

The next morning, Ciel ventured into the Great Hall for breakfast. As they had the day before, owls soared in during breakfast, depositing their burdens among the students. Ciel took no notice until one of them landed in front of him.

He looked up. Ah, Sebastian's Great Horned owl. He untied the envelope and allowed it to take a slice of bacon before it flew away.

He broke the seal to examine the contents and grimaced. Paperwork. Of course. He hurriedly packed it away and went off to his first class of the day: Herbology.

The class, while informative and practical, was not interesting to Ciel, and it passed quickly.

Albus was waiting in one of the hallways when Ciel reached it. Ciel nodded to him and he grinned back, but not a word was spoken as they set off toward the DADA classroom.

Silence permeated the hallway they occupied, and both of them were content with that. Neither of them took note of it when heavy footfalls began to land behind them.

They did, however, take note when a thick hand landed on Ciel's shoulder, stopping him. Ciel looked over his shoulder, a scowl already on his face.

The boy behind him looked slightly menacing, glaring down at him with eyes that stared in opposite directions, bugging out slightly. "You're Phantomhive, aren't you?"

His voice was low and threatening, his physical presence giving off an aura of brute strength, but Ciel had spent the last year in the near-constant company of a demon. He did not scare so easily as that. He ripped his shoulder out of the boy's grasp and took a step away, turning around to face him.

"I am. I take it that you are Marvolo Gaunt?"

His voice, like Gaunt's, was low. But where Marvolo's was rough and uncultured, his starkly contrasted against it with a refined accent, which clearly marked him as of a higher class. Obviously, though, Gaunt himself believed otherwise, and looking at him, Ciel remembered Matilda's words of warning.

"What's it to you,  _Muggle-lover?_ " Marvolo spat, dripping with malice. "Dumbledore, you've got a plenty respectable father. Knew how to put Muggles in their place. Whatchoo doing with a brat like this?"

Albus bristled, eyes flashing with anger. "That  _brat_ is my friend,  _Muggle-hater._ "

Gaunt's eyes bugged out with rage and before either first year could react, his wand was out. " _Reducto!"_

Ciel's eyes barely had time to widen before the spell hit him and he was blasted into the wall behind him, hitting it hard, and he let out a strangled cry.

Albus whipped out his wand, too, eyes blazing. " _Reducto!_ "

The overpowered spell – much stronger than Gaunt's own weak one – was barely evaded and smashed into the wall behind him, which cracked.

Gaunt didn't notice, and Albus froze as the large boy rounded on him. Ciel scrambled to get off the ground, but it tilted under him, and someone else got there first.

" _Protego!"_

Albus found himself being pushed back by an expanding force. Across from him, Gaunt was experiencing the same problem.

"Gaunt!"

Ciel, unlike Albus, recognized the sharp voice lashing out at the older boy, and three heads turned to see Matilda storming toward Gaunt, black robes billowing behind her.

"What have I said about harassing other students?" she demanded furiously, jabbing her wand at him. Without even giving him time to answer, she continued, "Come with me! I'm taking you to see Professor Britton. She won't be happy about this!"

Once again without giving him any time to react, she waved her wand, and his arms snapped to his sides, suddenly stiff as a board. Another wave had him being floated down the hall, and Matilda didn't even pause as she added,

"You're late for class, you two."

Albus and Ciel looked at each other, and then, at the same time, they were up and rushing down the hall. Ciel winced as his head pulsed.

They finally skidded into the classroom, far later than was acceptable, even for a first year still learning the layout. The teacher was at the front of the class, and when her gaze met theirs, it was icy.

"You're late."

Mutually deciding not to mention the incident, they murmured together, "Sorry, ma'am."

"Sit."

Albus spotted Elphias sitting all alone and pulled Ciel, who by now felt rather dizzy, over to him by the arm. Ciel did not protest, but winced as he sat. Albus frowned.

"Something wrong?" he asked quietly, bending down to take out his book.

Ciel put a hand on the back of his head, feeling it come away wet. He looked down at it and found a smudge of red across his palm. He closed his fingers into a fist. "I'm fine… just a headache."

He found it difficult to pay attention as class went on. More than once, Albus was forced to draw Ciel's attention back to the class. Failing that…

"Mr. Phantomhive!"

Professor Vanken, as he had discovered her name was, snapped at him, and he jumped. Her sharp voice made his headache spike and he winced, scowling at her. "Professor?"

"What is the counterspell for the Conjuctivitus Curse?"

Ciel wasn't entirely certain that was first year material. Not that that particularly mattered to him…

"A Soothing Spell is the most common counter."

Her eyes narrowed. "Incantation?"

"Oblenio."

"Theory?"

"The magic is pulled primarily from the moisture in the air, in order to take advantage of the healing properties of water magic. Some of it is pulled from the wizard's own core, which speeds the process. The incantation shapes the precise intentions of the spell, but this can also be achieved merely with the mind, which is why it may also be performed nonverbally. A swish of the wand focuses and directs it, preventing the spell from simply dissipating into the air. This, too, can be achieved without a wand, if one has the willpower to keep the spell together."

Her mouth formed a disapproving line. "Correct."

He glowered at her.

"Mr. Dumbledore!" she snapped suddenly.

Albus looked up. Elphias, cowed by her fierce glare, leaned away. "Yes, Professor?"

"Does the same theory hold true for the Nerve Reparation spell?" Her eyes glinted in triumph; first years wouldn't have even heard of such a spell, no matter their standards.

Albus, however, didn't care for her standards. "No, Professor."

"Correct it." Her face was once again a mask of disapproval.

"Nerve Reparation spells draw their magic from the earth, as its magic is calmer and more soothing than water magic. It also draws more from the wizard's core, which makes the spell more stable. The incantation, Reparo Nervousa, refines the magic and the steadiness and care of a touch is preferable to the swish more often seen in healing spells."

Albus, unlike Ciel, seemed to take great pleasure in explaining the process, and finished with a slight smile.

"Mr. Dumbledore, Mr. Phantomhive. Twenty points each from Gryffindor and Slytherin. Up to the front of the classroom. For disrespect."

Her voice was, if possible, even colder than before. Albus' smile dropped and he exchanged a confused look with Ciel. Both of them stood and ventured toward the front of the classroom.

"Put your hands out, palms up."

Albus complied immediately, confused. Ciel's eyes widened in realization as a memory, sharp and clear, of Sebastian saying the same thing flashed through his mind, and then his jaw set and he, too, obeyed.

Of the two of them, only he was not surprised when a hard ruler came down on both of their palms. Once, twice, three times, and then more. Ciel stopped counting.

They returned to their seats once she was finished, fuming. Their hands stung sharply. Albus' face was dark with anger at the unjust punishment, and ire simmered in the depths of Ciel's eyes. For the rest of class, they were silent. Professor Vanken did not call on them again.

Ciel's head hurt.

Class eventually ended and Ciel stood in a hurry, but stumbled as his vision faded to black for a moment. A hand caught each of his arms, preventing him from falling.

"That's it," Albus said determinedly. Ciel's vision cleared to reveal him looking at Ciel with a concerned frown. One hand clung tightly to Ciel's arm, keeping him from falling. "You're going to the hospital wing."

Ciel scowled, then looked to his other side. Elphias – looking a little less green than he had the day before – was holding his other arm in an unexpectedly firm grip. He was looking at Ciel with a genuinely worried look.

Ciel let out a long, annoyed breath. " _Fine."_

Not ten minutes later, he was seated on a bed in the hospital wing, with the plump Madam Sprout waving her wand at him.

A moment or so later, she let out an exasperated sigh. "You have a mild concussion, Mr. Phantomhive."

Ciel frowned, irritated.

"I can fix that easily enough," she continued, walking toward a cabinet in the back. "Why didn't you come to me straight away?"

"We were late for class," Albus offered.

"I would have given you a note!" she said crossly. "Oh, it was that Gaunt boy again, wasn't it? I don't know what's to be done with him…"

Albus nodded. Madam Sprout sighed and shook her head, handing a small vial of orange liquid to Ciel. He drank it without hesitation, grimacing at the taste. Then he sighed, relieved, as his headache vanished.

"He was taken to Professor Britton," Albus added, sounding satisfied. And rightly so, Ciel grumbled to himself. Madam Sprout nodded in acknowledgement, looking marginally less annoyed.

"On your way, then," she sighed, shooing them.

Ciel's next two classes, the last of the day, passed in a blur. He noticed that Albus, too, looked distracted. Both of them were preoccupied by the Defense professor's apparent grudge against them.

But finally, dinner came and went, and they again met in the library.

"She can't do that!" Albus burst out as soon as he spotted Ciel.

Ciel sighed and sat across from him. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something only he could see. "No. She needs a legitimate reason. However, we have no proof as of yet, of anything."

Albus frowned, tapping his fingers on the table. "If she'll do this on the second day, who knows what she'll do later in the year."

"If we can build a strong enough case, we can have her fired," Ciel muttered thoughtfully. "We need a teacher's rule book."

"But there aren't any in the library," frowned Albus.

"Then we'll simply have to make nice with a teacher and borrow one," Ciel replied lightly.

"We can do that," Albus smiled. Ciel nodded. "Sounds simple enough."


	7. The Crow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a crow causes problems in Hogwarts and Ciel is not pleased. Flying may or may not also be involved.

Ciel heaved a faintly annoyed sigh as he finished his letter and sealed it into an envelope, stamping it with his signet ring. He stood and strode out of the common room, heading for the Owlery.

Though it had only been a few weeks, he was certain that the servants were growing restless already, even with Sebastian still there. A letter may settle them, at least a little, and he fiddled absently with the envelope in his hands.

He soon reached the Owlery and went straight for Eliza.

“Hello, Eliza,” he greeted softly, offering her an owl treat. “I trust you’re settling in well enough? I have a job for you.”

She hooted at him, taking the treat in her beak and consuming it rapidly.

Behind him, he heard the door creak open. “Oh! Ciel! I wasn’t expecting to see you, of all people, here.”

Ciel looked over his shoulder. Albus. Of course. In his hand, an envelope was clutched, and he was looking at Ciel with some surprise.

“Albus,” Ciel greeted. “Sending a letter home already?”

Albus chuckled, walking up beside him to feed a treat to an owl near Ciel’s. His own, Ciel assumed. “As are you,” he noted.

Ciel shrugged and swiftly tied the letter to Eliza’s leg. Eliza hopped up onto his arm and he walked to the window. Albus followed a moment later, a shy-looking Sooty, the owl he’d fed before, on his arm. Together, they let the owls loose in the wind, and the pair flew side-by-side.

“ _Diffindo!”_

Albus’ spell ripped through the air and slammed into the tree, scoring a wide gouge in it. Ciel glanced at it and smirked.

“Not bad, Albus.”

But Albus wasn’t paying attention. Instead, his head was tilted thoughtfully, eyes on the top of the wall. “Huh.”

Ciel frowned. “What?”

He followed Albus’ gaze as Albus explained, “That crow hasn’t moved the entire time we’ve been here. In fact, I think it was even here when we arrived.”

Ciel’s gaze fell on the crow and he felt a shiver run down his spine. That crow… So familiar… A flash of snow white feathers flickered in his mind’s eye and his eyes narrowed. Now he recognized it.

“Shoo!” he snapped loudly.

In a rustle of feathers, the crow was gone.

Albus continued to look at the spot where the crow had been, a confused furrow in his brow, until Ciel called to him, attracting his attention again.

The next morning, the headmaster stood during breakfast. He clapped his hands twice and silence enveloped the hall.

“I have an announcement to make,” Phineas announced, voice bored and droning. “In recent times, the castle wards have detected an extremely dangerous creature, one of the darkest magic, stalking just outside the castle periphery. I urge all of you to avoid that area; the creature in question is purely evil, malicious and cunning. It is most certainly not to be approached under any circumstances; to do so, even for just a minute, would be folly and would have dire consequences. All students are to steer clear of the periphery until further notice.”

He sat again, face unreadable, and frightened murmurs had broken out among the students before he was even halfway finished. A displeased scowl broke out across Ciel’s face; with a description like that, the aforementioned creature could only be a demon. Accounting for the crow that had been sitting on the wall the previous day…

He stood and made his way toward the exit in long strides, his every line screaming irritation. He didn’t get far before he was stopped by the Bloody Baron, though, who was looking at him with disappointed disapproval.

“Your demon should not be here.”

“No,” Ciel agreed darkly. “He shouldn’t.”

“You may be a student here, Mr. Phantomhive, entitled to an education, but if you do not send _it_ away, I will be forced to report you to the headmaster.” His expression softened, if only slightly. “I am sorry, Mr. Phantomhive, to have to withdraw my promise so soon, but a creature such as it cannot be allowed near the other students.”

Ciel gritted his teeth. “I understand.” Sebastian was in _so_ much trouble for this.

The Baron nodded solemnly and floated away without another word.

Ciel needed a way past the walls and the wards.

Unfortunately for him, though, he couldn’t go looking right away. He had a _special_ lesson first.

That was how Ciel found himself lined up with the entire Slytherin first year group in a field by the castle, brooms laid out in front of them. Across from them, the Gryffindor group stood and an almost tangible tension hung in the air. Ciel glanced up from staring at his broom and met Albus’ eyes. Albus shrugged with a grimace. Ciel scowled.

Beside him stood one of his roommates, whom Ciel found he could tolerate, if not particularly like, and who elbowed him.

“Albus Dumbledore,” Alexis Zabini muttered at Ciel. “Not a bad choice of friend if you had to choose a _Gryffindor.”_

Ciel nearly snorted. “Hmm. Albus isn’t a Muggle-hater, if that’s what you’re thinking, Zabini. I wouldn’t even consider speaking with him if he was, considering my family’s history.”

Zabini held his hands up in surrender. “I know, I know! You’ve said so before – we all heard that tongue-lashing you gave Lestrange. And he’s two years older than us and _huge._ ” Zabini shuddered. “Just… Keep in mind that the Dumbledores are one of the Lightest families out there.” He turned his head to look at Ciel, a slight frown marring his face and a glitter of concern in his eyes. “And your family… Well, it’s a pretty dark shade of Gray.”

Without looking at him, Ciel replied frostily, “I know.”

Zabini would have pressed on, Ciel knew, if the instructor hadn’t chosen that moment to sweep onto the field.

“My name is Mister Potter. I will be your flying instructor and, should you join your house Quidditch team,” He shot them all a roguish grin. “I will also be your coach. But that’s another matter altogether.” He let out a low chuckle and continued, “Everyone’s got a broom, correct?”

Murmurs of assent ran through the nervous students.

“Now, the first thing you do is put your hand out over the broom. Focus on the broom, and _only_ on the broom, and say ‘Up’.”

Ciel held his hand over the broom and, with a hint of trepidation, commanded it, “Up.”

The broom stirred a little, but didn’t rise. Beside him, Zabini shot him a smirk, broom in hand. Ciel didn’t deign to respond, and when he glanced up, Albus was frowning at his own broom.

Ciel glared down at the Oakshaft 64 at his feet. “Up. Up! _Up!_ ”

The first two tries yielded nothing, but as he shouted at the broom on his third command, the Oakshaft snapped up into his hand, and he fumbled with it, nearly dropping the slim broomstick before he managed to get a firm grip on it.

“Mount your brooms!” Mister Potter called out. He waited for the students to obey before starting to walk up and down the line, correcting grips and positions. Finally, he came to a halt again at the end of the line.

“Now, when I say go,” he continued. “Jump into the air. Rise with me, no higher, not even if you have prior flight experience.” As he spoke, he mounted his own broom. “Go!”

The word had hardly been completed before brooms were rising into the air. Ciel pushed off and followed, flinching slightly as his broom wobbled beneath him.

Eyes on Mister Potter, he rose and then, wavering off and on as he struggled to control the unwieldy broomstick, hovered in place when the instructor came to a halt, looking perfectly at ease twenty feet in the air. He exchanged a brief, frustrated look with Albus, who didn’t appear to be too thrilled with this activity either.

Ciel shifted uncomfortably on his broom, taking one hand off for a moment, and then gasped aloud, feeling like his stomach had vanished, as he slipped on his broom, coming very close to falling. He clutched his broom tighter, looking wary.

“Good! Now lean forward slightly and follow me around the field,” Mister Potter called, grinning. He leaned forward and his broom responded easily, starting forward on a circuit of the clear grassland. Ciel imitated him and was relieved when the broom eased forward at a similar pace.

Albus had no such luck. His broom shot forward, and when he hastily leaned back again, it stopped abruptly, and only Elphias’ arm – thrown in Albus’ way – kept him from falling two stories to the ground. He leaned forward nervously with a murmured thanks, and moved forward at a pace closer to the one Mister Potter had set.

Far too late for either boy’s liking, Mister Potter directed them to the ground. Upon landing, Albus stumbled, and Ciel tripped ungracefully off his broom, landing with a disgruntled huff.

Ciel looked up. Albus looked down. Their eyes met and a silent agreement passed between them.

_Never again._

Ciel frowned, pacing along the length of the outer wall, only just inside the Hogwarts ward system. Just on the other side, Ciel could summon Sebastian from wherever he was hiding and yell at the demon.

Though it had been but a month, Ciel had grown used to the warm atmosphere Hogwarts held, so different from the cold, formal air of his manor. Carefree chatter and laughter rang through the air at every moment of the day, a constant happy buzz in the background.

But since the headmaster had made the announcement, tension and fear hung heavy in the air, putting a damper on the mood and stifling it. Ciel hated it.

And all of that was quite aside from the Baron’s warning; it made Ciel’s blood boil just to think of it, though he knew it was justified.

In short, Ciel would not stand for it any longer. No, Sebastian could not be permitted to stay.

Unfortunately, getting to the other side of the wall was turning out to be a bit of a problem.

For the last week, Ciel had taken every opportunity to slip away and search for a secret passage out past the ward line. With the announcement having been made, he couldn’t simply ask around for it, which meant that he had no choice but to find it himself.

Ciel stopped and glared at the stretch of wall in front of him.

So far, he had had no luck. Today, after another warning from the Baron and one strained laugh too many, Ciel had cut his research time with Albus short and run off to look again.

“I need a way out,” he hissed at the wall, irked.

He glared at it for a moment longer, and then, to his shock, the wall began to grind open, sliding aside to reveal a small tunnel.

For a moment, Ciel just stared at it. Then he hastily dashed toward the entryway and into the dark interior.

Ciel pushed open the door, disguised as a section of wall, he noted, on the other end of the secret passage and clambered out. Once he had gotten out, he closed it behind him and, now outside the wards, leaned against the wall. In the cold, unforgiving voice he reserved for when Sebastian was very much in trouble, he said, “Sebastian. _Come._ ”

In an instant, Sebastian was standing in front of him, standing tall, stance formal. He knew he was in trouble already. “Yes, my young lord?”

Ciel’s blue gaze pinned him with an icy glare. “What the _devil_ are you doing here?” he hissed with venom.

Sebastian’s expression did not change, except to gain the slightest edge of mockery. “You called me here, sir,” he replied, a hint of irony in his voice.

Ciel gritted his teeth and his glare intensified. “Do not play with my words, Sebastian! _What are you doing here?_ ”

The mocking look faded into vague irritation and a hint of what, on anyone else, Ciel would have called petulance. “You mentioned that there was a spot of trouble here. I simply took it upon myself to monitor th-”

Ciel lunged forward and grabbed the front of Sebastian’s coat in his fist and tugged it down. A soft gasp sounded as Sebastian, caught by surprise, lurched forward, and he suddenly found his face mere inches from Ciel’s.

Ciel remembered mentioning his trouble with the Defense teacher in his letter to Sebastian, furious as he was at the woman. He knew full well that Sebastian would also, in normal circumstances, have never come at such a petty complaint. Far more likely, the demon was growing restless at the manor and desired a change of pace, of sorts. He forgot his place.

One blue eye locked onto twin crimson orbs.

“The wards sense you, you idiot!” Ciel snarled. “Last week, the headmaster announced to the entire school that a creature of the darkest magic – _you –_ was stalking about outside the school. If he finds out that you are here because of me, I will be _expelled._ Do you understand, Sebastian?”

For a moment, Sebastian didn’t react. Then he replied, as composed as though he wasn’t bent down almost double to Ciel’s level, “Yes, my lord.”

There was a short pause. Ciel didn’t let go, cerulean glare boring into crimson eyes, unrelenting and unwavering, almost as though he was considering going further.

The moment passed and Ciel let go, turning away abruptly and crossing his arms. “Unless you are told otherwise, _by me,_ and _me only,_ you will not go within a mile of Hogwarts.” He looked over his shoulder, expression cold. “That’s an order.”

“…Yes, my lord.”

Ciel started to walk away, saying over his shoulder, “I will see you at the Christmas holidays when I return, no sooner.”

“Understood, sir. But if I may ask…?”

Ciel paused.

“How did you come to be outside the wards?”

Ciel looked at him. Then he replied, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” And he continued on without another word.

In that manner, Ciel returned to the castle, and slipped back into the library, quickly settling in and acting as though he had been there all along. He opened a book that he had started before – an interesting look into the details of core magic, better known as wizard’s magic and, to a lesser extent, a mild form of soul magic – and leaned over it, eyes running over the page, absorbing the information with startlingly intense focus.

As he always seemed to when Ciel ventured into the library, Albus soon found him.

“Ah, you’ve returned,” was the auburn’s greeting as he sat beside Ciel, a thick book already in hand. “What was your hurry earlier?”

“Don’t you mind it,” Ciel dismissed. “Simply something I had to take care of.”

Albus ‘hm’ed, but didn’t comment further, simply opening his book and allowing the silent words to drift in the comfortable silence.

The next morning, an announcement was made to say that the creature had left, abruptly and for no readily apparent reason. With a warning to stay alert, the tension drained out of the student body. Out of the corner of his eye, Ciel saw Albus visibly relax. Ciel turned his head and caught the Bloody Baron’s gaze.

A single, curt nod was the only reply to his unspoken question. It was enough; Ciel relaxed, too.


	8. The Beginning

It was sometime around the end of the second month when Ciel began to grow restless.

No, he was not  _homesick,_ thank you very much. He was simply… used to the servants' particular brand of chaos and found it odd to be without it. That was it. Not to mention Sebastian's constant presence at his side, which was also, of course, lacking. But that was all. He was unused to being without it. The point was, he was not homesick.

He was very firm about this to Albus when the other boy noted his restlessness aloud.

It was this…  _restlessness…_ that led him to be glaring at his paperwork when he was meant to be filling it out. He heard someone move up beside him and sit in the chair next to him. He glanced up irritably as Albus leaned forward, both of them ignoring the nearby cluster of other students, who surrounded a Ravenclaw boy who was showing off some sort of charm.

"That's not homework," Albus commented, peering at the papers in front of Ciel.

Ciel glared at him. "It's paperwork," he snapped. He turned back to said paperwork and glared at it instead.  _Stupid, monotonous papers with neither end nor point…_

"Aren't you supposed to, you know,  _fill out_ paperwork? I don't think you're meant to glare at it."

Ciel ignored him.  _Quality checks, material confirmations… all things that are completely unnecessary._ Not that it was  _all_ pointless, but at times like this, when he couldn't concentrate hard enough to actually do it, it certainly seemed like it.

Albus sighed. "Look, come on. You're not getting anything done by glaring at it, or by glaring at me. So let's go do something productive." Not that Ciel didn't glare at him  _often…_ He did. But normally things were getting done at the same time. This time was different and nothing was getting done. Albus was tired of unproductivity, honestly.

Ciel scowled one last time and then tossed his quill down, grumpily bundling the papers, quill, and ink into his bag. "Fine. What do you suggest, then?"

"Let's get started."

Ciel's eyes darted up to Albus', which were set with determination, with an acute interest that had been completely absent mere seconds ago.

 

* * *

"Oh? What brings you boys to my classroom?" Professor Lockhart asked, surprised, as she opened the door to Albus' knock.

It was only Ciel and Albus there; Elphias maintained that he wanted nothing to do with Ciel when he was in a bad mood, which was just as well. Neither boy particularly wanted to bring the third into this, as even Albus admitted that he didn't quite see how he would be helpful.

Albus ducked his head slightly. "Well, we don't have much to do right now, and Ciel's feeling a bit homesick…" Ciel bit back the urge to snap at him and glare. "So we were hoping that we could help out some. For a distraction, you know."

Professor Lockhart looked at Ciel sympathetically. "Oh, certainly, certainly." She stepped back. "Come in, then."

Albus shot Ciel a smile over his half-moon glasses, eyes twinkling merrily, which Ciel glowered in reply to, and then Albus followed the good professor in. Ciel gave a resigned sigh and followed.

"Well," Professor Lockhart exclaimed, clapping her hands together briskly. "There's not much to do here, really, I like to keep the place in order. But next class is the Fourth Year group and we're working on the Summoning charm, so why don't you boys help me gather the cushions? Last class was the Banishing charm and the cushions are  _everywhere._ Last year there were even some in the closet, and I've no idea how they ended up there." She shot them a wide, amused grin. "Don't rule anywhere out. That'll keep all three of us occupied for long enough, I'd guess, so let's go ahead and start."

She turned away to start gathering up some of the cushions spread about the room and Ciel glared at Albus again. Albus, unsurprisingly, ignored him.

 

* * *

"I hate you," Ciel complained as they left Professor Lockhart's classroom, a few hours later.

"Hate is a strong word, Ciel," Albus threw back breezily. "No one  _hates."_

"I  _hate,_ " Ciel grumbled, almost defensively. "Just… not necessarily you."

"So you admit you don't hate me?"

Ciel glowered at him as they sat in the Great Hall, completely disregarding the fact that they were not, in fact, in the same house, and that Ciel was at entirely the wrong table. Elphias soon found them and sat nearby, frowning at Ciel.

"How are you at the Gryffindor table?" he wanted to know.

"There's nothing in the rules against it," Ciel snapped irritably, poking at his food crossly. "I have every right to be at this table. If you wanted, you could sit at the Slytherin table as well, you know."

Elphias eyed said Slytherin table uneasily. "I don't think that's such a good idea…"

"Hm…" Ciel considered his own table, then Elphias, and then his table again. "Well, perhaps you're right. Still, there are no  _rules_ against it. It is simply… discouraged."

"Not that you care about that, Ciel," Albus chuckled.

"Of course not," Ciel dismissed. "Complete waste of time. If the only inter-house interaction was in the hallways and during class, then where would we be? It would be ridiculously difficult to form alliances of any sort."

Albus rolled his eyes and chose to ignore what he called Ciel's 'Slytherin talk', meaning his viewing of people as resources and not, well, people.

"Did you hear about the Ravenclaw boy?" Elphias asked suddenly.

Both other boys frowned at him. "Hm?"

"Just this evening," Elphias said quietly, hastily. He seemed edgy, almost frightened, but also entirely too excited. "He went close to the lake, and no one knows exactly what happened. All anyone  _really_ knows is that he drowned, and his body washed up a few hours ago." He shivered.

"He's dead, then?" Ciel asked. Albus was stiff beside him, eyes wide with shock.

Elphias nodded quickly.

Ciel frowned, 'hm'ed, and considered a moment. But then he shook his head again. Accidents happened all the time, after all. And that was most likely all it was… an accident. Still, the inkling of suspicion would not leave him alone. He blamed his missions from the Queen for  _that_ lovely bit of paranoia.

His restlessness was forgotten.

 

* * *

Ciel sat in the shadowed corner of the Slytherin common room, quill in his hand and paperwork laid out in front of him. But he'd all but forgotten about it, looking with boredom out at the other Slytherin students as they scrambled to do last-minute homework before practice.

The first Quidditch match of the year was coming up soon. It was Slytherin vs. Ravenclaw, and as the next match was against Gryffindor, the Slytherin team wasn't about to lose. They wanted to beat Gryffindor too badly. Ciel shook his head disdainfully.  _Sports._

He chose to ignore the fact that when he  _did_ choose to watch a game or some such, he was rather vocal about it himself. This was one reason why he didn't watch games; it was detrimental to his reputation. No one could be frightened of the first year with the eye patch who yelled at Quidditch games, no matter how hard he glared. No, it was far easier to be intimidating if he was just the first year with the eye patch and the grumpy demeanor. He liked it better that way.

Thus, Ciel would not be watching the match. Neither would Albus, as it happened, as he wasn't a big fan of the sport either. Elphias, though, wasn't of the same opinion and was very much looking forward to attending the game. Ciel sighed and directed his attention back to his paperwork, which, all in all, consumed far more of his time than  _any_ of his homework did, or, for that matter, all of it put together. He scowled.

Ciel put the quill to the paper and went back to work.

He had far more important things to think about than Quidditch, after all.

 

* * *

"Detention, Mr. Phantomhive," a clipped voice sounded over the voices of students practicing.

Ciel glowered at her. He knew by now that he had best not ask precisely what he had done, but he knew by experience that it was either some obscure, distinctly  _unimportant,_ by  _any_ standards _,_  rule, or one generally not acknowledged by any of the school populace, teacher or student. Not that Professor Vanken seemed to care.

Then he tilted his head and frowned; she seemed in a better mood than normal, already looking away from him to praise one of the other students, one of the ones who tended to stare and hang on to every word as if it were unadulterated truth, the facts of the universe. Normally, she would have stuck around to watch him like a hawk for some time.

Hm. Still, best not look a gift horse in the mouth. He had enough detentions already, thank you very much.

He looked up to Albus (currently subject to the loss of twenty points, but no detentions quite yet) and frowned at him in question. Albus nodded in agreement; he'd noticed it too.

Ciel looked back down and went on with his wandwork, half his mind still curious as to what had the grumpy teacher in a good mood.

 

* * *

Ciel turned around the corner in the hallway and bumped into a Ravenclaw student, who looked down with a slight frown. Ciel tilted his head toward them.

"Sorry," he muttered. His gaze fell on an odd amulet in their pocket and he frowned.  _What the devil?_

"It's fine," the Ravenclaw assured him, oblivious to Ciel's current focus.

Now, normally he paid no mind to any sort of amulet. Amulets were other people's business and theirs alone. But this one was odd, and distinctly malevolent, Ciel thought, from the feel of the magic just  _radiating_ off of it. It had nothing on the feel of Sebastian's own magic, of course – it was just a little amulet, after all – but it was distinctly  _malicious._ It seemed almost sentient in nature. Not quite – but almost. Ciel suppressed a shiver and, for a brief moment, considered warning the Ravenclaw boy.

But the Ravenclaw was already moving away and he shook his head. He supposed that it was none of his business anyway, malevolent or otherwise.

Still, he hoped that the Ravenclaw knew what he was dealing with.

 

* * *

"Ciel! Hey, Ciel!" a voice called behind him. Ciel looked up disinterestedly to see Elphias scrambling toward him, face pale.

"Yes, Elphias? Has something happened?"

It was the day of the match. If Elphias was here, he expected that it had just finished, but he couldn't fathom what had Elphias running like the devil himself was after him.

"I-it's another Ravenclaw!" Elphias gasped out. They rounded the corner into the library and Elphias lowered his voice, shaking a little. "H-he just  _fell._ He  _fell,_ Ciel!"

Ciel narrowed his eyes. "And is he dead?"

Elphias nodded emphatically, white as a sheet.

Ciel sat down beside a slightly confused and even more alarmed Albus, who Elphias quickly filled in, and frowned. Perhaps… he wasn't as paranoid as he had thought, with two death, in a  _secure_ school, in less than a month.

It wasn't paranoia if they really were out to get you… or in this case, out to get others.

Well, he supposed, if nothing else, he could keep his skills from getting rusty.


	9. The Hallowe'en Feast

Ciel nodded in satisfaction as he finished off his paper with a flick of his quill. He glanced up to Albus, who was still working on his. "I take it you're putting extra effort into making it especially good?" he asked the other boy, only half interested.

Albus nodded, concentrating on it and opening up his (advanced) Charms book for reference again. "Yes," he mumbled. He glanced up for a brief moment. "After all, we're trying to impress Professor Lockhart, aren't we? She may be cheerful, but she doesn't accept nonsense, so showing we're serious is one way to get on her good side. I'm surprised you aren't doing the same."

A distasteful look came over Ciel's face and he nodded to the pile of paperwork he'd set aside. "Normally, I would, but something seems to be going wrong with the company, and there's been an influx of paperwork." He said the word 'paperwork' with no small amount of disdain. "I don't have time at the moment. Perhaps another time."

Albus nodded distractedly, having found the information he'd been looking for, and he focused back on his paper while Ciel set in on his paperwork, and silence fell over their table again.

* * *

"Mr. Dumbledore," Professor Lockhart called from the front of the classroom, a parchment – most likely Albus' – clutched in her hand. "Speak to me after class."

Albus stiffened, a worried look suddenly coming over his face. Ciel frowned and glanced up, but it was impossible to read the situation from Lockhart's face. What the devil did the professor want?

It took far too long for the class to end, and Ciel nodded to Albus once, receiving a nervous look in return, before going out the door and waiting outside, leaning against the wall.

Finally, the door opened again and Albus came through. Ciel gave him an expectant look. In return, Albus smiled at him, a hint of relief in the expression. "The paper was excellent, she said." Ciel didn't smile, but his eyes sparkled slightly, pleased for his friend. Albus' smile widened into a grin and he continued, "She's submitted it to  _Challenges in Charming,_ beginner's section."

Ciel did smile slightly now. "Well, that's sure to earn you some attention," he commented idly. Albus looked thoughtful and nodded in agreement, still grinning.

They started to walk down the hallway, joined quickly by Elphias, who had gone ahead. Albus told him excitedly of the news, and Elphias was far more enthusiastic in his response than Ciel. No surprise there. Pride and glee shone on the third boy's face, and Ciel nodded along idly, listening as Albus and Elphias talked, subjects ranging from Albus' paper, classes, and, of course, the rapidly nearing Hallowe'en.

* * *

It was a week before Albus' paper showed up in  _Challenges in Charming,_ but show up it did. The owl soared toward Albus, paper in hand, and he instantly took it from it, flipping through the pages. It didn't take long to locate his paper, but he grinned.

"There it is," he murmured. "My first paper in an official publication."

"It won't be your last," Ciel promised him. He was sitting beside Albus, again at the Gryffindor table. In fact, he hadn't sat at his own table since that first time at this one, a few weeks ago by now. Albus looked up at him and smiled.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," he agreed.

"Let me see, let me see!" protested Elphias, who hadn't yet seen any version of the paper. Albus laughed and passed him the magazine, and he peered intently at the paper, reading over it and attempting to digest the information. His brow furrowed slowly, and he appeared to start over, reading it again. Both Ciel and Albus frowned at him, confused. Finally, he put it down and announced, "I don't understand a word of it."

Albus relaxed and smiled sheepishly. "It may not… actually be first year work," he admitted.

Ciel smirked, amused. "What level is it, then?"

"…Fifth year."

Elphias stared at him with an open mouth, but a chuckle escaped Ciel's mouth. "Of course it is," he muttered, smirking. "Professor Lockhart must have been shocked."

"In fact," Albus hinted, smiling. "She might even be shocked enough to do something she normally wouldn't."

Ciel's eyes sparkled. "That she might."

* * *

The next Charms class, Albus returned from having stayed after with a grin on his face and a book in his hand. "Got it," he said triumphantly.

Ciel eyed the book and then looked at Albus, a glint of anticipation in his eyes. "Perfect. With this, we can begin."

Albus nodded fervently. With this on their side, he really couldn't wait to get started, because he really didn't like Professor Vanken.  _That_ was one teacher they could certainly do without. But then he frowned. "We can't start right away."

Ciel scowled, the comment triggering his own memory.  _Oh, right…_

The past week had been a flurry of activity, with rumors of decorations and charms about, what would and wouldn't be there, and the  _many_ witches going to Professor Forewindon, the Divination professor, for fortune-telling advice. Tonight would be the culmination of that activity.

Ciel sighed. He didn't even like Hallowe'en.

* * *

They met with Elphias, who had gone ahead, at one table towards a side of the room. As it was the night of Hallowe'en, there were, of course, decorations about, along with the beginnings of setups for various games, and the usual house tables had been replaced with smaller, more intimate tables set for about six people each. The hall was dimly lit by candles, an eerie feeling in the air, though a small, crackling bonfire burned in the center of the hall. Yellow mums, hollowed-out pumpkins full of chestnuts, bowls of dried fruit and nuts, and bundles of golden straw tied up with black and orange ribbons lay about the hall. Hollow turnips and carrots floated about, bobbing like lanterns and lit from within. At every table sat a small basket full of apples, girls tittering over them already. Also laying about the hall were wooden tubs, full of water and apples, and large mirrors every few feet along the wall. Horseshoes hung on the walls, orange candlelit flickering dimly across the metal surfaces.

Ciel frowned. Once, Hallowe'en, or All Hallows Eve, or Samhain, had been about spirits. Séances, hiding from spirits and demons, setting out food to soothe angry apparitions. Not anymore. Oh, no, now it was about fortune telling, romance. Girls would cut apples before mirrors or bob for them, hoping to catch a glimpse of their future love. They would peel them for good luck or offer them to the spirit world in exchange for a foretelling of the future.

He grimaced. No, Ciel did not like Hallowe'en.

Of course, it was still centered on magic and the supernatural. Tarot cards sat on the tables as well as the apple baskets, and already, several of these decks were being used, students up and down the tables concentrating hard on the cards laid out before them.

Eventually, all the students were settled in groups of friends at their tables – though Ciel's only contained him, Elphias, and Albus – and the food appeared, filling them so that food was nearly tipping over the edges of the tables.

Albus looked distracted, clearly as uninterested in the proceedings as Ciel was, but Elphias was grinning excitedly, looking around with obvious delight. Ciel listened as a boy at one of the tables nearby told the story of Jack, a foolish, sinful man, who trapped the Devil in a tree, and refused to let him go until promised he would not go to Hell when he died. When Heaven didn't want him, the Devil took pity on the man, giving him a burning ember from Hell, with which he could see the dark places of the world as he wandered forever.

Once that story was finished, he noted a muttering close by, and frowned. Then he looked over at Albus.  _Ah._ The other boy was muttering to himself, and then looked up, catching Ciel's eye. Ciel gave him a questioning look. Albus scooted close to him.

"I was thinking about when we've finally  _got_ the evidence against Professor Vanken," he muttered in explanation. "Normally, I would say we should bring it to the headmaster, but…" He shot Nigellus, deep in discussion with Professor Britton, a skeptical look.

Ciel considered. "If the headmaster ignores it," he started slowly. "We could, perhaps, bring it to the Board." Though he didn't like authority much. He didn't have much choice here, he supposed. None of the authority afforded to him as the Watchdog applied here.

Albus frowned, considering. "We would have to build a stronger case if we're to appeal to the Board," he commented.

"Well, then that's what we're going to do," Ciel said decisively.

Albus chuckled, nodded, and then delved into a new matter of discussion – more specifically, some of the more interesting old Hallowe'en traditions, pausing only to watch the Hogwarts ghosts reenact first the punishment of Guy Fawkes, and then the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly-Headless Nick's, botched execution by beheading.

Before they knew it, the previously endless-seeming feast was over, but almost no one left. In fact, if anything, activity increased. Almost every mirror had a girl before it, cutting their apples and offering one piece over their shoulder, peering into the candlelit surfaces with interest. Apple peels littered the floor and the bonfire was surrounded, effigies and carved rocks being tossed into the flames alongside hazelnuts and chestnuts.

Ciel watched them boredly, and then sighed and shook his head. Yes, Hallowe'en was no longer a day of the dead. While he'd never experienced such traditions himself, he was certain that he would have enjoyed them more than he did this.

Albus didn't mind it so much, Ciel noted, but didn't seem especially interested. Ciel figured that, as Albus was far less…  _morbid…_ than himself, he wouldn't have actually preferred the old traditions, but that didn't stop him from disliking these.

Elphias was enjoying himself, at least.

Finally, the bonfire in the middle of the hall extinguished, and any students who had thrown a stone into the flames rushed toward it to sift through the ashes and find it. Ciel rolled his eyes; he wondered what idiot actually believed that one's continued life depended on whether or not you could find a stone in the ashes of a bonfire.

Aside from the idiots doing so right now, that was.

Albus locked eyes with Ciel, and then gestured with his head to the door. Ciel nodded in agreement and stood, following the taller boy out the door of the Great Hall. Behind them, a shriek echoed through the air. Ciel figured that they had failed to find their stone.

They walked up the stairs, toward where Ciel assumed Albus' common room was, and finally stopped before a portrait of a woman. "The Fat Lady," Albus explained, before addressing the portrait. "Flamboyance."

The Fat Lady smiled at him warmly and swung open, allowing him through. Ciel followed after, looking around the Gryffindor common room curiously. As he observed the warm atmosphere and more comfort-oriented arrangements, he said conversationally, "You do realize that I now know the password."

"Who cares?" Albus replied dismissively. "I'll be right back."

He popped up a staircase, most likely to the dormitory, and returned shortly afterward, the Teacher's Rulebook clutched in his hand. He sat down at the table Ciel had taken a seat at, lit by a single, flickering candle, and opened it. "I marked a few sections that looked promising," he told Ciel distractedly, flicking through the book to the first marked page. "But I didn't have time to do more than skim a few chapters, so there's still a lot to go through."

"Never mind that," Ciel grumbled, well used to scanning for information. "It's of no consequence." He reached up and stopped Albus from turning the page, looking closely at one section. Then he put his finger on it. "Look there."

Albus leaned over and read the sentence that Ciel was pointing at.

_A teacher may not ask students questions above their year, unless they have reason to suspect that the student will know the answer._

Albus grinned. This would be easier than they had thought.


	10. The Third Death

October had melted into November, which meant that Ciel had been at Hogwarts for more than two months. The weather was growing chilly, but that didn't keep Ciel from being kept busy. He and Albus worked frequently on their newest project, the gathering of any and all relevant rules.

In fact, they had both gotten up early that day to do just that.

They met up in the Entrance Hall, as usual. Albus was smiling in anticipation, but Ciel, to Albus' utter lack of surprise, was scowling. He was also shivering.

It took almost no time for Albus to notice Ciel's obvious discomfort, and he frowned at the smaller boy. "How can you be cold? You're wearing your cloak."

Ciel scowled at him, a slight flush of embarrassment spreading across his cheeks. He hated the winter months for just this reason. They were _too cold._ And it wasn't even December yet! "Shut up," he grumbled, sulking slightly.

Albus gave him a considering look, still frowning. "Do you have another winter cloak?" he asked abruptly.

Ciel gave him a suspicious look and nodded slowly. "Yes… Sebastian insisted."

Albus paused for a moment, but then pushed past the odd comment. "You ought to go get it. And maybe order another one."

Now Ciel's cheeks burned.  _Why_ did he have to get cold so easily? He was  _not_ going to wear three cloaks, dammit! He'd rather be cold! "No," he snapped, crossing his arms irritably.

Albus just kept frowning. "You won't be able to focus if you're cold," he pointed out logically. Ciel glared at him. "We'll get more done if you're not frozen."

Ciel held the glare for a moment longer before letting out a huff and spinning around to slink back to the dungeons. Albus smiled behind him, satisfied, and then turned to push open the door to the Great Hall to wait for Ciel.

As he headed back down the stairs, Ciel frowned to himself, considering. It had been a long time since anyone but Sebastian had been able to get him to do, well,  _anything_ he didn't want to do.

But Albus could.

He told the wall the password absentmindedly and went in. Albus could convince him to do things. He scooped up his winter cloak and fastened it, fingers far more deft than they had been the first time, and sighed as the weak Warming Charm got to work. His other cloak had one too. He grumbled incoherently to himself. As he'd stated, he got cold  _far_ too easily. It irritated him. Immensely.

But anyway… Albus could persuade him. Coerce him, even when he was against it. And Albus could calm him, or at least tolerate him, when he was in a bad mood. That, Ciel would admit, was a feat in and of itself, because when Ciel was in a bad mood, he was in a  _really bad_  mood.

All that, no matter how much he thought over it, only brought Ciel to one conclusion. He could hash and rehash the information all he liked, but the conclusion was the same.

Albus was his friend.

 _Ciel_  had a  _friend._

Ciel shook his head. No matter how many times he thought it, it didn't sound any less odd. Ciel just didn't make friends.

But he had one.

He reached the Entrance Hall,  _again,_ mentally cursed Albus for making him go back, ignored the fact that he was no longer shivering, and crossed over to the Great Hall.

He pushed that door open, too, and found, to his surprise, that Albus was still standing, stiff as a board, on the other side. He frowned. Something was wrong. "Albus?"

Ciel wrinkled his nose as a foul stench reached it and let the door swing shut. He looked over, following Albus' frozen, horror-struck face, and froze himself.

Lying on the ground was a corpse – stiff, still, and burnt beyond recognition. The stench, Ciel realized, his stomach giving a sickening lurch, was burnt flesh; he'd smelled it before, once, on an investigation with his father, just two years before.

He still gagged.

That jolted Albus out of his stupor, and he gagged, too, then leaned over and vomited. Ciel himself felt seconds away from following.

Behind them, the door creaked open for the third time, and a sharp voice snapped at them, "Mr. Dumbledore! Mr. Phantomhive! What are you doing, blocking the doorway? Move this inst- Oh, Merlin!"

Professor Lockhart (who was apparently not a morning person) pushed herself between them, blue eyes wide and fixed on the corpse. "Oh, _Merlin,"_ she whispered again. She was in shock for a moment longer before she snapped back to her senses and hissed in a hushed voice, "Boys, go get the headmaster. His office is on…" She faltered slightly, her voice getting just a little higher with each word, "on the third floor, behind a gargoyle, don't bother looking for a door, it's a wall. The password is Salazar.  _Go!"_

Despite her shaken state, Lockhart managed to inject enough authority to get an immediate response from both boys, who whirled and rushed back out the door toward the stairs, stumbling slightly in their haste.

They ran all the way to the gargoyle, blowing past the few students who were out of their common rooms. By the time they reached it, Ciel was too out of breath to speak, so it was Albus who snapped out, "Salazar!"

The wall behind the gargoyle parted and it leapt aside. Albus grabbed Ciel by the elbow and dragged him through the gap and up the (moving) staircase.

"Professor Nigellus!" Albus gasped, pounding on the door. "Professor Nigellus!"

"Come in," the impatient voice called from behind the door. "What is it that's so urgent this early in the morning?"

Albus pushed open the Headmaster's door and didn't even glance around before he tried, "Professor, there, there's been…"

"There's been  _what?"_ Professor Nigellus asked impatiently.

"Another death," Ciel finished breathlessly, leaning over with his hands on his knees.

Professor Nigellus' annoyed gaze sharpened with intent. "What?"

* * *

Professor Nigellus took one look inside the doors and forbade Albus and Ciel from entering. Instead, they were sent to go inform each House.

In order to accomplish this, they were given all four (well, three – Ravenclaw didn't have a password) passwords. Ciel smirked to himself, making a mental note of each one. Nigellus eyed him suspiciously; he was a Slytherin too, after all, and he probably knew exactly what Ciel was thinking. Ciel didn't look away.

Instead, Ciel nodded to a still-pale Albus and headed for Ravenclaw Tower, while Albus went toward the Hufflepuff common room.

Ciel frowned to himself. People did not simply  _burn to death_ spontaneously. The drowning and fall could easily have been accidents (and something about those three deaths together nagged at him, some connection buried in his mind) There was definitely something wrong in the school. The question was, did he get involved? There was no indication, at least thus far, that the case was a part of the Underworld at all. In fact, it was unlikely. But if it wasn't Underworld activity… well, there were  _rules_ about this.

The Underworld was not permitted to interfere with the surface world. It was the most basic and fundamental of Underworld rules and the one that Ciel's family found themselves enforcing the most often, as people tended to ignore it in favor of gaining more wealth, more power. As a part of the Underworld himself, Ciel couldn't be seen breaking it, no matter the reason. Her Majesty simply wouldn't stand for it, and, more than likely, he'd find himself quite simply  _eliminated_. But was the Wizarding World part of the surface world at all?

This bore thinking about.

But for now, he'd been given a task, and he briefly studied the wall and its single, eagle-shaped knocker, then reached out and knocked once.

The eagle's mouth opened and a musical voice asked, "Who controls the power of the one who dwells in shadow and fire?"

Ciel pondered the question for only a moment before scowling. Dammit, did  _everything_ in this castle know his secret?

"The holder of the contract," he replied. A cryptic answer for a cryptic question. Even if someone had come along and heard both parts, they wouldn't understand any part of it, unless, perhaps, they were familiar with demonic lore. Even then, they wouldn't draw the connection between him and 'the holder of the contract'. That was enough for him.

"Yes, I suppose that's true," it conceded, sounding almost amused.

A door in the wall swung open and Ciel stepped through, pausing to study the common room. The room was large and circular, with large windows all around. Both the floor and the domed ceiling were a deep midnight blue, the latter painted with silvery stars. Tables, chairs, and bookcases were scattered about the room, and a marble statue rested in an alcove opposite the door. Two more doors, presumably to the dorms, sat on either side of this statue, which Ciel guessed was Rowena Ravenclaw.

Only one person, Ciel noted, was in the common room, which was just as well. She had not yet noticed him, nose buried in a book.

He strode over to her and tapped her shoulder. She looked up, startled, and then frowned at him. He ignored the way her gaze flitted instantly to his eye patch and stayed there. Really, it wasn't  _that_ strange… To him…

"You're a Slytherin." It wasn't a question. "What are you doing here?"

"There's been another death," he replied, watching the frown wash from her face in exchange for a wide-eyed, frightened look, his only face carefully blank. "Someone burned to death in the Great Hall, either last night or this morning. The Headmaster's orders are to keep anyone from entering until he says otherwise."

"I understand," the girl replied faintly.

He nodded once and turned to leave.

* * *

After that, the castle was different. Professors could be found adding to the wards, strengthening them. Professor Vanken, in particular, was frequently seen casting spells, looking particularly bad-tempered. It was expected, after all, that as the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, she would be at the front line of the defense to any threat to the castle. Students were moving in huddles, and Ravenclaws buried themselves in books even more than usual, looking for protective spells and enchantments. And worst of all, at least to Ciel, that  _hated_ tension hung in the air again.

Yes, Ciel was bad-tempered, too.

He still had yet to decide whether or not he could allow himself to interfere, but he was beginning, in the face of this, to just  _not care._

He and Albus still conducted their sessions with the rulebook, but he could see Albus beginning to hesitate, to wonder if it still mattered, and Ciel thought that it was only a matter of time before he quit altogether.

Tension was building in the castle again, and Ciel didn't like it.

Two weeks after the burning and three weeks into November, Albus looked up from his paper and met Ciel's eye.

"I don't think we should do this."

Ciel had seen it coming. Seen the hesitation, the worry, the confliction. It didn't stop his fingers from tightening their grip on his own papers. He tilted his head silently, regarding Albus with an unreadable blue eye. "Go on," he said quietly, tone as unreadable as his face.

Albus took a deep breath. "Professor Vanken is frustrating. She's mean, and petty, and I don't like her. But she's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." He looked down, to the list of every offense, minor or otherwise, that they'd found she had committed, and then closed his eyes against them. "Should we really be trying to get rid of her?"

For a moment, Ciel was silent.

Resolve failed. He knew that. It was a flaw of the human race. New information came up, new circumstances, and suddenly, what you were doing seems unimportant, and that made resolve fail. Most people did that.

Not Ciel. Ciel calculated his moves, because his life hadn't allowed him to do otherwise. He didn't have time for regret. One slip in the Underworld, one moment of uncertainty, and he'd be down.

Besides that… Sebastian. Sebastian would not tolerate anything like  _weakness,_ like  _remorse,_ and while Ciel had control over him, Sebastian was a demon at heart. He could find loopholes. And he had no loyalty.

Deals only took you so far.

But other humans didn't have those limitations, and he inclined his head toward Albus, as much in acknowledgement of this fact as in acquiescence. "Fine."

Albus nodded, gave the smallest smile of relief, and closed the book, tucking his parchment into his bag and turning to walk away.

Ciel went back to work.

He didn't have time to look back.

The next day, Ciel wrote to Queen Victoria and asked in the Wizarding World was considered a part of the surface world.


	11. Discontinuation Notice

**This story has been discontinued.**

**Most of you, I'm sure, figured that out already. It's been more than two years since this has updated, and while stories have come back from longer hiatuses, this will not be one of them.**

**Originally I had grand plans for this story, encompassing seven years of school and a few months afterward. It was stupid and overambitious. I've since left the Kuroshitsuji fandom altogether, so you can consider this a discontinuation notice for all Kuroshitsuji stories. If anyone wants to pick it up (unlikely) feel free to ask me about it. Do _not_ ask me to pick it back up.**

**This notice has been posted primarily so I can announce the addition of three scenes I wrote years ago, before I moved on. They won't have a lot of context, but I'm fond enough of them that I feel it would be something of a waste to not put them up.**

**The first is the moment when Albus finds out what Sebastian is. The second immediately follows, being the moment Sebastian is allowed to consume Ciel's soul, with the deal fulfilled. The third is the epilogue.**

**Read these or don't, but I'm putting them up. Context will be given before each chapter. Thank you for your time.**


	12. Scene: Tell the Truth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Context: It is the summer after their fifth year. Ciel and Albus were both kidnapped by the man who murdered Ciel's family, an OC named Leonidas. Despite the Leonidas' wards, Ciel was able to summon Sebastian using a blood spell. However, because Albus was still present, he was able to see the full extent of Sebastian's abilities. Sebastian is in the next room over and Ciel's damnation is imminent.

"Ciel," Albus began quietly, but urgently. "What precisely _is_ Sebastian?" Suspicion gleamed in his ice blue eyes, which pierced Ciel with an almost accusing gaze.

Ciel leaned back and stared at the sky, away from that sharp gaze. A shard of remorse buried itself inside him, but it was overwhelmed with melancholy. "What is Sebastian?" he mused, frowning. "Well, he could be called many things, and has been. A butler. A faithful dog. A noxious beast, by the reapers. His favorite, one hell of a butler."

"The truth, Ciel," Albus hissed, not willing to play games in this crucial moment.

Ciel's gaze drifted back to Albus, and his mind wandered to what Albus may be in the future. He would make a wonderful leader, Ciel was sure, but perhaps… a better teacher, Ciel thought. He seemed to enjoy being in charge, but he was happiest when he was teaching. Of course, Ciel himself would never know. "The truth," he murmured. He spent his life hiding the truth, but now, in his very last moments, he was being asked to bare it before his friend… his _closest_ friend. His best friend. He supposed… he supposed he could do that. "The truth… it is beautiful and terrible. A tool to be wielded, something that, used in the right ways, at the right times, can wound deeper than the sharpest of daggers… This, Albus, is one such time. I ask you now. What do _you_ think Sebastian is?"

Albus let his gaze wander to the door, which he knew that Sebastian currently waited behind, allowing them this one moment of privacy. "I don't know," the boy admitted, seeming almost surprised at himself. It wasn't often that he did not know of something, not anymore.

Ciel looked at him as Albus' gaze returned to him, and, for just a moment, amusement sparkled in the depths of the blue eye. "Guess."

Albus bit his lip. "Something malicious," he muttered. "Something dark, and dangerous, and…" His gaze, formerly fixed on the ground in an unconscious attempt to avoid looking at Ciel and getting an idea of how close he was, wandered back to meet the single blue eye and avoid the lavender. "And evil."

Ciel nodded. Once. "Yes," he agreed. "Sebastian is… all of those things. He is dark, and dangerous, and very, very evil." He tilted his head and sighed. Yes, that guess, true to form, was very close. Albus was smart, and he had an open mind. It was entirely possible that he had already guessed the truth, and the dread in the boy's eyes agreed with Ciel's own guess. Albus knew… but he did not want to admit it until Ciel said it aloud, and so Ciel did. "Albus…" He took a deep breath. "Sebastian is a devil. He is… _my_ devil."

There. He had said it. The breath rushed out of him in a whoosh and he half-slumped, drawing his knees up to his chin and leaning against them. He looked at Albus' face, which had so many, _so many_ emotions running across it. Horror, shock, resignation, anger, fear… One after another tumbling after each other on pale skin and crystal eyes. A tempest made of Albus' heart that left no room for words or breath. Ciel waited.

Finally, after a moment that seemed to contain an eternity or more, Albus found his voice. He whispered, "How long? How long do you have, Ciel?"

For a moment, just a moment, Ciel almost looked guilty. Then his jaw tightened and he met Albus' eyes evenly, lavender and cerulean challenging ice. "The deal was fulfilled when Sebastian killed Leonidas. As soon… as soon as we are finished here… he takes his due."

And now the breath left Albus, all of it rushing out of him in a split second, simple horror mixed with something like grief on his face. "Ciel…" His best friend. He was about to lose _his best friend,_ and there was no going back. _No. No! Please, no!_

"I'm sorry, Albus," Ciel said honestly.

Albus sprang toward him, and Ciel braced himself, half-expecting to be hit. But instead Albus grabbed him and squeezed him in a tight hug, face buried against his shoulder.

Right. Tactile.

Ciel sighed and hugged Albus back, regret – not for making his deal, no, and not for fulfilling it, but for leaving Albus alone like this – filling him. He let his head fall onto Albus', and for a moment, they sat there, both rocking gently, just holding each other, sadness and a comforting warmth swirling between them, binding them together for this one last moment.

But finally Ciel had to pull away, and their eyes met one last time.

"Goodbye, Albus," he said quietly.

Albus nearly choked, eyes swirling with grief. "Goodbye, Ciel."

Ciel closed his eyes, and then opened them again, a new resolve hardening them. He stood, slow and careful, and turned to the door. "Sebastian."

The door opened and Sebastian, face solemn, opened it. Ciel walked toward him, and Sebastian's arm slipped around his shoulders, half supportive and half ushering. Ciel looked over his shoulder one last time, looking back to Albus, a new sadness filling his eyes.

"Tell… tell Lizzy, will you? Tell her the truth. She… she deserves to know. Tell her I'm sorry, and that, whoever she chooses to spend her life with… as long as she is happy, I'm happy, too."

Albus swallowed around the lump in his throat, feeling tears burning in his eyes. "I will, Ciel."

Ciel smiled at him sadly, and then he turned to walk away, the door swinging shut behind him with damning finality.


	13. Scene: A Deal is a Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Context: This scene immediately follows the previous. It has been more than five years since the deal was struck; canon events occurred mostly during summers, between school years. The deal is fulfilled.

In the room, Sebastian gently caressed Ciel's cheek. "Young Master."

The explanation was entirely silent, the expectation clear. Not a word needed to be spoken, and so, not a word was. Ciel closed his eyes, resolute and unregretful. Not an ounce of fear showed on his face. Ciel would not go back on his word – not even with a demon. Sebastian was surprised; even the bravest of his past masters had flinched, and most had tried to run away. But…

Wasn't that the reason he had chosen Ciel?

Heh. Even in the very last moments of his life, the boy continued to astound him. He would miss this when Ciel was gone. It was very hard to surprise the likes of him. After all, he had seen much in his long life.

"I will be gentle, Young Master," he promised, one hand coming up to caress Ciel's cheek in what was almost a parody of caring, but… not quite.

"No," Ciel said suddenly, voice low and harsh and demanding. "No, Sebastian. Carve the pain of my life into my soul. Remind me in my death that I have lived."

"…Yes, my lord."

With that, he began to lean forward, crimson eyes regarding the Young Master he had served for the past six years, the Young Master he had… grown fond of. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, but then he thought of what he was doing – that master's life would end now. He would go off on his own, returning to his dreadfully dull existence, void of the dangers his master attracted, the arrogance he exuded, and the expectations he maintained. His life would be completely free of hopeless dancing, useless servants, scathing insults, and irritating allies.

No more would there be games to play, pain to inflict. No more would his Young Master be entrenched in the dark, his light illuminating every enemy. Enemies that received the brunt of Sebastian, carnage unleashed, his true nature released without compunction. Unbridled sadism and gory deaths would no longer be regarded by a single blue eye, and acknowledged with a single, approving nod, where most humans would only be able to scream. No more would he provide targets for Sebastian's nature and, more than any other human Sebastian had met, look at him and know that he was a demon. And stubbornly refuse to be frightened.

Ciel's arrogance, his anger, the hatred in his eyes, would be no more. He would not look at Sebastian and call him his 'faithful dog'. There would be no more 'that's an order's or 'damn demon's. Menial tasks and restraining commands would be things of the past. Childish tantrums and demeaning words would no longer be a fact of life. The contract had come to an end and Sebastian could now eat that delicious soul that he had coveted for so long.

Suddenly, it was no longer a question of whether or not Ciel was ready to die. Really, it had not been a question since the deal was made; the only thing keeping Ciel determined to stay alive was his quest for revenge. With that complete, he had no reason to stay.

No, the question now was if _Sebastian_ was prepared for Ciel's life to end.

And the answer, much to the demon's surprise, was no. He wasn't.

"Do it _now,_ Sebastian!"

The words, spoken harshly and brimming with irritation, startled Sebastian out of his thoughts. His name, falling from that scowling mouth, was heavy with significance, anger and impatience and haughtiness and everything that was purely _Ciel_. He thought. He made a choice, and he started to speak, making Ciel open his eyes to look at him in confusion, but with an angry storm seething just below the surface. Sebastian put a finger on the boy's lips, silencing him. He puffed up with anger but remained quiet.

Five years ago, Sebastian would not have been able to resist this opportunity. Even so little as three years ago, he would still consume Ciel's soul. But he had been in the presence of that _immaculate_ soul for five years now, and he was, to a point, conditioned to it in a way that other demons (Claude came to mind) were not. He could resist the temptation. He could do this.

"That first day I saw you, you intrigued me," Sebastian began. "I first offered you the deal because, even in the face of death, you showed no fear. I heard your call – unlike most, it rang, not with desperation, but with the powerful vehemence that I have come to expect from you, Young Master. Even when you came face-to-face with a devil, you hesitated not one bit. Even since that day, your determination has not faded, only grown, and, even if you lived to be older than the oldest of humans, it would still never weaken; you would not let it. That day, I did not know it; I believed your will to be something short-lived, fleeting, as most human things are, but it was not. I know this now."

Sensing that his butler's monologue was fast drawing to a close, Ciel shut his eyes again.

"Taking this into account, Young Master, it is my wish to remain your loyal knight, your sword and shield, your strength and your might."

Ciel's eyes popped back open and he stared, wide-eyed, at Sebastian, mute with shock.

"For the extent of your natural life I will remain by your side, and when that, too, ends, only then will I swoop in and claim my reward. Your soul, like a fine wine, will only improve with age and I would see it – and, by extension, you – reach your full potential. Potential for power, knowledge, success. For the benefit of others or at the cost of the world, I would see your wishes granted, your enemies destroyed. I would see that you became all that you could be. Young Master, if you so wished it, I would see you above all others – sovereign over the world, second to none."

Ciel stared, consumed by shock, at the solemn-looking demon. But then, gradually, anger overtook him. "What is this, Sebastian? What is _wrong_ with you? The deal is complete, and you _will_ take your reward! Now, Sebastian!" Fury roared to life in his eyes, while shock at the demon's refusal to take his reward mingled with the exhaustion from his most recent ordeal and the stress of knowing the inevitable end of this, and it all came out in the form of anger. "My fear, or supposed lack thereof, is completely beside the point! You will finish this matter at once!" He started to stand, his seething wrath overtaking any lingering pain he may have felt. "What do you want from me? Answer me, Sebastian!"

Long experience supplied Sebastian with the right words to soothe his master's temper, and many years of knowing the ill-tempered child earl chided the demon for not having anticipated this reaction. He shifted slightly, position changing into one familiar to the boy – Sebastian was now on one knee, hand held over his heart, head bent submissively. "I wish only for a new contract, my lord. That is all; an extended leave from the unending monotony that is a devil's life, if you will. Besides…" He looked up, scarlet eyes glinting in amusement. "That day years ago, you had nothing to live for, it is true. But can you say the same now?"

Ciel's fury was not quelled, but it had been pushed away in favor of the curiosity Sebastian's words had sparked, and he did not move to say anything in the pause Sebastian had allowed. Sebastian took the silence as it was meant and continued.

"You now have a task in life. Your jobs, both as the head of the Funtom Corporation and as the Queen's Watchdog, give you a purpose. You have your studies at Hogwarts and at the manor. And, of course, there are your other ties as well."

Ciel frowned, rage dying to a soft simmer. "Other ties, Sebastian?"

Sebastian smiled, an almost-mocking smirk of amusement. "But of course. There is Prince Soma and the servants. Alois Trancy and Grell, Ronald, and Undertaker. There is Lau. Your friend Albus. And then there is the Lady Elizabeth; what ever would she do if you were to die?"

The frown that decorated Ciel's face deepened with each name, and, when Sebastian finally reached the end, he sighed.

"I suppose," he admitted slowly. "That you do have a point."

Sebastian knew better than to think that his master was convinced, and he pressed his advantage. "The Lady Elizabeth would be crushed. Prince Soma would be horrified and the servants would be complete messes. Mister Dumbledore would be quite upset too, I believe." He examined his master for just a moment, long enough to realize that he was not quite yet persuaded, and went in for the final blow. "Perhaps, though, your enemies would be pleased enough. You will have appeared to have just curled up and died; an ignoble end for their hated adversary, they would assume. A triumph for the likes of them."

Ciel's face morphed into a scowl of displeasure. Sebastian held his breath, though the slight smirk never wavered. Finally, Ciel blew out a long breath, looking irritated still, but also slightly resigned.

"Renew the contract."


	14. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Context: Sebastian stayed true to his word. Ciel lived a long life and eventually died of natural causes some time before the start of the Harry Potter series. Ciel worked with Albus and Grindelwald on their plans for world domination, but ultimately withdrew when Albus did, continuing his duties as the Queen's Watchdog. It is, at present, the end of Harry's sixth year.

Sebastian tilted his head back and listened as a lament soared on the wind, stricken and terrible and beautiful, heartrendingly mournful. "So Albus is dead," he murmured. _(no)_ For a moment, he bowed his head in subtle mourning, listening to the phoenix's lament, the lament of creatures eternal. _(no, please)_

As he had mourned, _(no, CIEL!)_ not twenty years prior, so Fawkes mourned now. _(as blue eyes start to close)_

Ciel had died _(wake up!)_ eighteen years before, a hundred and four years old. Sebastian looked exactly the same here, sitting on a cliff high above the sea, as he had that day, watching Ciel breath his last breath, _("Se… bas… tian…" "Ciel!")_ and taking the soul that came with that breath into himself, _(why now?)_ the soul that Ciel had promised him ninety-four years before that, and that had been owed only six years later. _(WHY?)_

It had been everything he had dreamed of, had expected, and more, but it also came tinted with regret, and it wasn't Ciel's. _(why?)_

Sebastian sighed and looked into the sea, waves lapping gently at the cliff face far below, a shade of blue just like Ciel's eyes.

One trait that all immortals shared was a long memory. He could still recall the face of his very first master, more than a thousand years before. And he knew, with an unshakable certainty, that he would never forget Ciel – his face, his hair, his eyes, his voice – and that it would be a long time before the memory, the _ache,_ even began to fade.

This was the cost of bonding with a mortal. But Sebastian did not regret one moment of the time he had spent looking after his Young Master.

He reached up and swept his black hair out of his red eyes, still the same as they had ever been, and looked up into the sky, watching the clouds roll across the blue _(cerulean,_ his mind whispered, _sapphire_ ) expanse. For a long time, he just leaned back and listened to the echoing, grief-stricken melody, lost in thought and in memory.

He was jolted from the depths of his mind when a spark of fire glinted in the distance, high above the sea. A cry, a harsh and anguished phoenix's call, rang from it, and his gaze focused on the distant figure, soaring toward him.

The great bird soon came within easy sight, flapping his wings with familiar desperation borne of sorrow _(running, running, running from the pain)_ , propelling him through air that parted before him. Sebastian watched, tracking him with his eyes, as he grew closer, occasionally releasing bright, hot flames behind him, flying, fleeing through the air.

Finally, the phoenix let out one final cry and then alighted on the ground beside him, head bowed and tears falling from his golden beak, dripping to the ground beneath _(because he was dead, he was dead, and tears pooled on the ground at his feet, he was_ dead _)_.

"Fawkes," Sebastian greeted, briefly dipping his head toward the creature.

Fawkes trilled sadly.

"Albus is dead, then?" Sebastian asked, looking back to the horizon with an oddly focused gaze.

Fawkes trilled again, high and sorrowful.

"I am sorry to hear that," Sebastian sighed, almost, but not quite, surprised to find that it was true. "He lived a long life, but all mortals leave eventually."

Fawkes nodded, head bowed low, as if weighed down. Sebastian knew that, for the phoenix, that was certainly what it felt like after losing his bondmate.

That was the end of it, then. After a hundred and twenty years, it seemed as though all traces of Ciel's life had been wiped away. Only Ciel and Elizabeth's only child, Eleanor Phantomhive, remained. In truth, though, the two were little alike – Eleanor took after her mother, with only echoes of Ciel's iron will and his blue _(cerulean)_ eyes to her name.

With him, his friends, and his family gone, only his memory, locked in Sebastian's mind, never to leave, remained.

The sun sank in the sky, and the blue bled gold before the silence was broken again.

"It is strange," Sebastian finally said, "that beings such as us would choose to attach ourselves to humans when it brings such pain."

He looked at Fawkes just in time to see the phoenix resettle himself and trill sadly.

"But I believe that it is worth the pain," Sebastian continued thoughtfully, fiddling absently with the hem of his glove, "for the memories we gain of the time spent with them. Otherwise, there would come a point where immortal life was simply not worth living, and then, only despair would remain. At least this way, we are reminded that there can be those who are worth knowing, worth meeting." _(because his time with Ciel was priceless, made everything before and everything after worth it)_

Fawkes almost seemed to perk up slightly, sitting up and taking notice, rising from the ashes of grief. He trilled again, but some of the sorrow had melted into hope.

He was comforting a phoenix. Sebastian frowned. He entirely blamed Ciel for this.

"The only question that remains," Sebastian pushed on, frowning in thought, "is what we do now. Having been occupied for the past hundred years, what do _things like us_ do now? Shall we move on, and look for another? Or wander aimlessly, as I – and, I suspect, you – have done for much of the time that came before?" He looked back to the phoenix again, head tilted and a contemplative frown on his face. "What comes next?" _(because they were dead and now there was_ nothing _)_

Fawkes chirped, beating his wings once. And, in a heartbeat that marked an incredible moment in immortal history, the phoenix settled again on the demon's shoulder, leaning down to gently card his beak through the black strands of hair.

Sebastian sighed and reached up to stroke Fawkes' back, almost resignedly. "I suppose that answers that question," he murmured.

And with that, he stood, taking the phoenix with him, and walked away from the thrashing blue of the sea, and leaving behind the last chapter of his life to turn a new page of the never-ending book that was an immortal's life.

_(because in the end, every human must die, but immortals live forever)_


End file.
